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
Author Bio
Author Bio
Born in India, Neetu has lived in Austria, England, and Canada before settling in the Eastern USA in 1994. Neetu’s eclectic work reflects her diverse background as she explores the joy and darkness of the human condition in poems and stories noteworthy for their intensity in brief span. Her poetry is published in journals and Anthologies from Australia, USA, UK, and India. Her poem, “Soaring Flames”, was awarded First-Place by the NY Literary Magazine (2017). She has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, 2019 for her poem “Sacred Figs” published by Kallisto Gaia Press in their Ocotillo Review in May, 2018.
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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 […]
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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 […]
-
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 […]
-
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 […]
-
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 […]
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Born in India, Neetu has lived in Austria, England, and Canada before settling in the Eastern USA in 1994. Neetu’s eclectic work reflects her diverse background as she explores the joy and darkness of the human condition in poems and stories noteworthy for their intensity in brief span. Her poetry is published in journals and Anthologies from Australia, USA, UK, and India. Her poem, “Soaring Flames”, was awarded First-Place by the NY Literary Magazine (2017). She has also been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, 2019 for her poem “Sacred Figs” published by Kallisto Gaia Press in their Ocotillo Review in May, 2018.
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