Empty oyster shells by Sunil Sharma

Life in metros,
Becomes a
Series of
Empty encounters,
Resembling
Oyster shells
Strung together
Artfully,
Humming in the
Sun-kissed breeze—
Outside hard,
The shells but
Inside blank
And gaping,
Found on the beach,
By a solitary walker,
After the sunset,
Left there in a great hurry,
By a thin urchin,
Curly-headed,
In torn half-pants,
Feet bare,
The kid perhaps
Afraid of the dark,
And the soft shadows that
Always follow,
Such a fleeing figure,
And, of the violent beatings
By an alcoholic father,
Cussing, cursing,
On his unsteady feet,
In a dark hut—
Harboring many secrets,
And a silent ghost
Of a mother,
Seen often
By a crying child,
The little thatched hut,
Standing alone,
Decrepit,
At the edge
Of the long beach,
Like an abandoned boat,
On the moonless nights,
When a lonely sea sighs,
Heard by that lonely child
And a soul encased in a
Flat in a
High-rise.

Sunil Sharma is India–born, Mumbai based, writer, poet, freelance journalist, reviewer, literary interviewer and editor. Currently he is a degree college principal in Mumbai Metropolitan Region. He is widely published.