Between the Lines
a comma, a pause—
maybe even a full stop
heaves its way
between the lines
silence lingers to make
a statement, take
a breath, wait
between the lines
no words to complete
just spaces that speak
oceans that flow
between the lines
© Neetu Malik
Endurance
a feeble flame
does not illuminate
my path on this
dark night
I must stop
until day breaks
and shows me the road
that lies ahead
if there be one
in such dolorous times
© Neetu Malik
Passing by
dusk casts its veil gently
as I walk along
this quiet street
under winged elms shedding
flaky white blossoms
at my feet
the hour is my own
no one here to nettle my peace
other walkers, far and few,
wave or smile occasionally
people come and people leave
I have learned to let them be
for on these intersecting trails
we’re passersby, you and I
© Neetu Malik
Don’t Tell Them
It was in April they met
when rain washed away
their loneliness
hand in hand they walk
in meadows sprouting
soft blades of grass,
young and lush
their love, tender as buds germinating
from dormant seed, throbbing
with promises they swear to keep
unaware yet of summer’s heat
or autumn’s last blaze,
no icicles to freeze
the flow in their veins
so it should be, better not tell them
what awaits.
© Neetu Malik
Fences
now
as then
we draw lines
build and rebuild
fences
with new wire
cut of the same steel
forged in
new factories
still owned and run
by warped minds
© Neetu Malik
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