The Dockyard

Afar in the nautical smacked land

the seafaring songs seemed funereal

lost very mistfully

in the winking blinking nod of the palm tree.

The dockyard was resilient

the gushing waves of the Arabian Sea

knocked my glacial door

freezing me almost to death.

fins lapping, nibbling lips

splashing Sonata

slided me back and forth

in the lap of the sedimented sand.

Innumerable folklores whirled around

shriek, shrill voices: whispering tales

appeared temptuous

and then, the parrot

cracked a nut in your palm

we rambled along the sanddunes

in reticence,inscripting skin burnt tales of deception

all in the land of the burgeon fishermen

nursing the desire to leave

our footprints behind.

as the horn blew

cacophony approached

splitting the moan of the sea breeze

We walked, all jaded

towards the city ahead of us

hoping for a bowl to hold onto the saline fluid

the fishermen held for us in their netted eyes.

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