A Parting
I hold fragments
of you
in my ash-grazed hands
to put them
in an urn
they sound like
empty shells as I
drop them one by one
the fullness
in my heart leaves
no room for echoes
I know your footsteps
will never return.
© Neetu M
Walk me through
your cave
show me the petroglyphs
the stories
you have laboriously pecked on the walls
with your hammer stone,
carved in the light of a lantern
where shadows cast gloom.
I am but dust
a grain of sand
blowing whichever way
the wind blows
in the universe
You were the guest at my table picking on the corners of the table cloth, fingers nervously folding and unfolding mutilated pride.
Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived.
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