Golden Beach Poem by Saroj Padhi

Sands wafted by the sea wind
that sang of love's soulful touch
now in lurch, sulk under weight of rain,
grains of gold that composed
golden moments under feet, lousy and wet
on faces coy and cascades of silk hair,
grope the deserted shore, to fume and fret
in the absence of joy-ride-camels,
conch and lemon tea sellers, ballonwallas
cacophonous children and rickety fishermen;

lines of empty hotels look on
from sockets of empty spaces
wrapped in ghostly silence of shutdown
as the boisterous bay roars on
echoing woes of lockdown,
trails of tattered nets along the shore
flutter in the wind, mourning time's breakdown
soon to be muffled by the sound of pelting rain
on the jagged ribs of a lacklustre holy town
when our Lord looks on from behind closed doors
and mortals in masks writhe in frown.