Grey Skies
I should have cut a piece of blue sky
or maybe two
one for each pocket
the last time it stretched
above me
unblemished and clear,
but I forgot it wouldn't last--
no, it never does.
At least I have the memory
of its cerulean loveliness
when the days are dark
faint though it is
it still hovers like a lost star
searching for a place in
my universe.
©Neetu Malik
Between sunset’s fiery streaks
slipping into the sea, and
the rising of the silver moon
is my twilight zone.
by the river
he looks lost
his face appears ancient
in rumination
under the sycamores’
embracing shade
thinks he might see
God
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