Authenticity by Neetu

April 26, 2020 by in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as , , with 2 and 1
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I see him
outlined against the window
in a busy café—
his wool hat on the table
beside a muffin and a cup of tea—
a portrait from a bygone era
and a study in longevity.

He barely moves except to
sip his tea.

I walk up to say hello—
he looks up and smiles, his teeth
a shining white—
they might be false
but who cares?

I catch
the morning sun’s rays in
his eyes;
they cannot lie
nor fake their light.

We talk—
it is so easy to converse,
to steep in his cup,

a rich brew he stirs slowly
and thoughtfully—
I wait
in no hurry to leave.
 
© Neetu Malik


Author Bio
Author Bio
Born in India, Neetu has lived in Austria, England, and Canada before settling in the Eastern USA in 1994. Neetu’s eclectic work reflects her diverse background as she explores the joy and darkness of the human condition in poems and stories noteworthy for their intensity in brief span. Her poetry is published in journals and Anthologies from Australia, USA, UK, and India. Her poem, “Soaring Flames”, was awarded First-Place by the NY Literary Magazine (2017). She has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, 2019 for her poem “Sacred Figs” published by Kallisto Gaia Press in their Ocotillo Review in May, 2018.
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Born in India, Neetu has lived in Austria, England, and Canada before settling in the Eastern USA in 1994. Neetu’s eclectic work reflects her diverse background as she explores the joy and darkness of the human condition in poems and stories noteworthy for their intensity in brief span. Her poetry is published in journals and Anthologies from Australia, USA, UK, and India. Her poem, “Soaring Flames”, was awarded First-Place by the NY Literary Magazine (2017). She has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, 2019 for her poem “Sacred Figs” published by Kallisto Gaia Press in their Ocotillo Review in May, 2018.
  • Veronica Jorge says:

    Hi Neetu, How tender; sad but also sweet.

    • Neetu Malik says:

      Thank you, Veronica. The gentleman who inspired this had a certain light and quiet power which touched me deeply, fleeting though my brief interaction with him was.

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