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
we were wingless
until we knew love
our breathless breath
lifted us
into rainbows
in its gurgling sprint
toward the sea
this river into which
I empty love’s ashes—
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