
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
life spills . . .
forming red rivulets in sand
in the vast desert
man’s fury against man
reasons I do not understand
spring has come
and gone
summer breeze nudges
dense foliage to dance
they said to remember crawdads
asked me to listen for their song
when my heart was heavy
and my sorrow dark
Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived.
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One October morning in 1932, Vicente Sorolla entered the white house on the hill and was never seen again. Now, Detective Dori Orihuela witnesses his brutal murder in her nightmares.
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