Aliens
Wind-blown seeds
land in unknown soil
in hopes that they will grow
into trees
strong and dense with leaves
heavy with fruit
in fertile ground
where rivers do not
run dry
they do not yet know
what winds and snows
await them
in seasons to come
how frost might freeze
tender sprouts.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
I will plant sunflowers
in the hollows we have dug
with a rusty spade -
mist fills the night—
there are no ghosts, just my self
and me in mellow light -
be happy
she says, her soft arms
hold me as I lean
into them
seeking reassurance
a promise to protect -
be happy
she says, her soft arms
hold me as I lean
into them
seeking reassurance
a promise to protect -
The sign is posted
on the porch
I’ve walked many times
this way before
through seasons warm and cold
but no one appears at the door.
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AIR ATTACK
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IN THE SHADOW OF THE VOLCANO
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Hi Neetu, Awesome poem with immigrant experience beautifully rendered.!
Thank you, Veronica. You got the intent perfectly.