Pandemic Sunsets over Nantasket Beach, by Sarath Reddy
Perched like birds on decks
we await brushstrokes of merlot and zinfandel
the inconsolable artist furiously painting,
repainting evening skies.
Boats reluctantly make their way back
to harbor, moon in absentia,
unchanging arch of coastline dotted
with unblinking eyes.
In the pitch black, ocean serene asleep,
sky hovering like a mother laying eyes on a baby
she has for months only spoken to.
Beneath the surface ripple, we fear the unseen,
live in the inky line separating earth and sky
Shut doors, muffled voices in the hallway,
words like dim stars bridge light years,
faint ringtone of an unfamiliar cellphone,
wind, a child learning to whistle
Like waves receding then stretching
to grab hold of the rocky sea wall, I reach
for a hand then pull it back, feeling
the grip of intersecting lives, fearing
Sarath Reddy’s poetry has been influenced by his experiences as an Indian-American, as a physician, and as a father. Sarath’s poetry has been published in JAMA, Another Chicago Magazine, Poetry East, The Healing Muse, and Paterson Literary Review. He lives in Brookline, Massachusetts with his wife and three children