A Walk in the Rain
Paris, they say,
is beautiful
when it rains—
now I know.
The cobblestones
gleam beneath
our feet, as you
and I, our arms
entwined,
inhale the scent
of romance
washed clean
of old arguments
betrayed loyalties.
Nothing in between
but occasional
crisp sparks
of our own
lightning, intense,
tempered only
by the summer
zephyr carrying
whiffs of rosemary
drenched in the ardor
of Paris.
©Neetu Malik
Previously published in The Poetic Bond V by Willowdown Books, U.K, in 2016
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
She wraps her child
in the old, soft mantle -
soft murmurs in the dark
don’t enlighten me
they leave me fumbling
for something real to grasp -
The marbles roll
on a patch of dirt–
colored transparencies
shine in the afternoon sun. -
I carve a piece of blue sky
for the dark days ahead -
ong shadows
the afternoon s t r e t c h e s us
on the sidewalks
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