Touch of Fog

The early-morning

Suburban fog,

Coarse- white

Travelling sheet/s,

Covered the dingy

Surroundings of an

Indian suburb,

Converting it

Into grey-white

Mass,

And also—

Surprised him,

By its swiftness

Of stealthy action

By entering his

Suffocating

Small room,

Via half-open windows,

And kissing

His

Gaunt

Veined

Face,

In its cupped hands,

Very tenderly,

Slowly,
The way

His only

Grand-daughter

Would

Often do—

When she was

Little and cared;

Or,

In a different

Time and era,

Occasionally,

The tears

Got kissed,

By

An overworked

Mother.