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.
-
I was leaning
by the window
standing outside
looking in— -
by the river
he looks lost
his face appears ancient
in rumination
under the sycamores’
embracing shade
thinks he might see
God -
your breath on my cheek,
as I hold you close to me,
silken infancy -
in a brief burst
of fiery red and gold
we burned…. -
Paris, they say,
is beautiful
when it rains—
now I know.
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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.
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Hi Neetu, How tender; sad but also sweet.
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.