Choreographer
She plays with shadows
twirling them with her fingers
making shapes she doesn’t
understand though
they are
but shadows, they dance–
she is too rapt in
their movements to realize
the choreography is in
her hands.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
Shall we dip our brush
in the deep blue dusk
so we may paint joy
we stole from
the passing day
before it grows dark? -
all I hear is this song…
carried to my ears upon waves
as they ebb and return
a symphony of love
played on instruments
of the heart— -
sultry afternoon
in the vast cornfields
reaping gold -
I wait eagerly
for absolute darkness
to lose my shadow -
I drop pebbles slowly
watch them fall
in a shallow stream
Featured Books
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In the zombie-infested, post-apocalyptic America where Benny Imura lives, every teenager must find a job by the time they turn fifteen . . .
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Oh, Neetu, this is so lovely! Made my hand movements more graceful.
🙂 Glad you think so, Veronica. Thank you.