Passing by
dusk casts its veil gently
as I walk along
this quiet street
under winged elms shedding
flaky white blossoms
at my feet
the hour is my own
no one here to nettle my peace
other walkers, far and few,
wave or smile occasionally
people come and people leave
I have learned to let them be
for on these intersecting trails
we’re passersby, you and I
© 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—
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.
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Words to ponder, Neetu. Thank you for a thoughtful poem.
Thank you for stopping by to read and post a comment, Dianna.