Fish Bones
You were the guest
at my table
picking on the corners
of the table cloth,
fingers nervously
folding and unfolding
mutilated pride.
You watched the candle
flicker, as restless
as your hands—
trembling, casting
shadows visible only
to those who sat
on the edges of the paroxysm
that quivered and coughed,
cleared its throat
as if ready to explode
but was caught instead
on minute fish bones—
too sharp for
a smooth conversation.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
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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
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Hi Neetu, You are so powerful at using imagery to depict a scene and evoke emotion. I especially loved the line, “picking on the corners of the tablecloth, fingers nervously folding and unfolding mutilated pride.” Wow. A great read.
Thank you so much, Veronica. I guess our everyday life offers us many such images, some slip by, others we catch! Glad you enjoyed reading this poem. 🙂