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Rush Hour Rhapsody

Morning Symphony: This subtitle emphasizes the poem's focus on the sounds and rhythms of the commuter train journey.

By bishnu prasadPublished 2 months ago 1 min read
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Rush Hour Rhapsody
Photo by Madison Oren on Unsplash

Steel serpent slithers, dawn's first light in chase, Bleary faces huddle, lost in private space.

Suitcase symphony, a rhythmic click-clack beat, coffee steam ascends—a morning's bittersweet.

The newspaper whispers secrets; its headlines are grim and bold. A businessman hunched, a story yet untold.

Teenage dreams unfurl in earbuds, worlds unseen, A symphony of silence, a life just in between.

An old woman smiles, eyes crinkled, warm and bright, recalling sunlit meadows bathed in golden light.

A young couple murmurs, hands entwined and tight. A future yet unwritten, bathed in the morning's light.

The train screeches, the brakes sing a mournful song, another station beckons, and another life moves on.

The steel serpent pauses, doors hiss open wide, and a human tide ebbs outward, into the city's stride.

nature poetrylove poemshumorfact or fiction
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