Rolling Luck
The marbles roll
on a patch of dirt–
colored transparencies
shine in the afternoon sun.
She watches carefully;
her big brown eyes
roll with the little marbles
deft fingers on small brown hands
shoot each marble toward the hole
in the center of a circle–
there is hope
of winning
whereas
in the square room
that sits unevenly
under a metal roof—her home
built to stand
but sure to fall
under the monsoon rain dance–
one can only lose,
without a chance.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
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I am but dust
a grain of sand
blowing whichever way
the wind blows
in the universe -
You were the guest at my table picking on the corners of the table cloth, fingers nervously folding and unfolding mutilated pride.
-
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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I tread softly in your world mindful of my footsteps
-
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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