That winter morning
cloaked in fog
reprises in front of my eyes.

A warm jacket
with a hood
partially covering your face,
you had adorned.

Uncertain steps
I had made
while moving forward
I stumbled upon a brick.
I fell on the road,

I had mistaken my step
as the dense fog
had enveloped us all.
An expression
as cold as the weather
your face wore.

I didn't know
who you were,
Neither do I know now
in all these years.
But as winter approaches,
your inscrutable face
resurfaces occasionally
for reasons unknown.