Little hours..

 
I, sat or rather sprawled on the

grainy land of a busy shore,

the whiff of salty air scenting the

breeze around, the waves kissing

the golden sand, white froth icing

the saline cocktail.

  
The shouts and laughs of little broods,

 trying to stand upright and strong,

managing to challenge the rise

 and fall dance of the grand sea.

The chilly sea breeze whipping

my skirt, goosebumps doting

my skin, make me shiver and smile.

The taste of the smell of the Chennai

 samosa coats the tongue, making

me take a bite.The spices in its 

unique blend butter my

mouth, my eyes shutting instinctively

to savor the zing.

I would probably walk back home

after this, but sometimes, sometimes

such little hours in a long day make

the day a better one.