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
-
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.
-
the wolves are quiet tonight
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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. 🙂