New Year's Eve Poem by Ajit Das

Dead of night: it's freezing cold;
street light glints eerily
through a dense cover of fog.
A queue of homeless people
waiting for free food
winds up near a big mansion.
A bonfire by the road side
keeps the wintry chill at bay.

Those fatigued of long wait,
with food packets in hands,
huddle around the dying flames,
looking from the periphery
to the dawn of the New Year.
Will it augur well for them?
A tinge of hope flickers
across their pale, dejected faces.