The corridor falls silent
no chirp nor whisper found…
in the adjoining classrooms and compartments
once bustled with sounds of brisk footsteps
vacant spaces now delineate saga of dread and fear
eerie silence speaks loud another time
smile hides face in the crevices of second wave
laughter is caught in the web of hung verdict
The swing no more giggles
nor bursts into peels of laughter
the strong bough looks weak and emaciated
having been deprived of cutie pies’ innocent demeanor
The school bell does not ring
nor does it send alarm for change of period
the desks benches rue their salad days
faintly sobs the black board
yet hope lurks…in the melodious oeuvre of cuckoos
perched on the adjacent mango tree
as they try regale our wretched souls
hope rides… the steps of horizon
pairs with dawn and morn
sprinkles positivity in the vistas forlorn
faith too sprouts…
when the swing moves to and fro to the tunes of wind
even if no one inhabits
a rhythmic whisper fills the silent zone
validates strong belief’s desire to move on
for this winter is about to leave
and spring cannot be far behind.
~Sujata Dash
Bhubaneswar, India
Nice subject and nice narration to read.