Brewing Time
unaware, you become
resigned to
where you find yourself
relieved there’s no rush
to hit the road again
the road will be there
it never ends
you’d rather stay awhile
make some friends
enjoy a short stop
at a wayside brewery
pulling over
you scrutinize the long list of brews
names you haven’t heard before
the bartender smiles as he explains
the dark and the pale
you’re tired of the same old stout and ale
you ask for the hoppiest he can recommend
you take a swig, a sharp tang on your tongue
tells you it’ll do
the road has a long wait
it’s going to be quite a while
before you’re ready to move
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
She needs to dig deep
to pull the roots
that grow under her feet
to do so requires strength -
my room
a sanctuary
at the end of the day -
It must have been
a stormy night
when love flew out the window
of my vacant roomlike a feather
from a molting bird.
-
she gathers dreams that were
shattered in the last storm
fragments burnt and charred
when lightning struck, turned
an armful of hopes to ash—
she laces them into a willow hoop -
wetting my feet
in the old pondI pause to remember
