The streets of Seville keep
their best secrets hidden in the dark
cobbled paths wind in stillness
I wonder where all the dancers have gone
cafes and restaurants throb with the pulse
of a late night soiree
the candles have burned down to stubs
but the servers will not turn out the night
until platters of paella and pitchers of sangria last
I ask where I might find a tablao,
to be charmed and mesmerized
taking directions, I walk into the soft beam
of streetlights through the tangled sleeping town
on the other side
it is so quiet—
what is tucked behind the old buildings
in a walled courtyard I can barely glimpse?
I walk inside—
ensconced in a shell
of darkness, burns the fire
of a woman, her back finely arched
she is attired in a ruffled gypsy dress
her voice reaches
into the desert…………
the man with the guitar plucks on strings—pulling me inside
I have arrived.
© Neetu Malik
Walk me through
your cave
show me the petroglyphs
the stories
you have laboriously pecked on the walls
with your hammer stone,
carved in the light of a lantern
where shadows cast gloom.
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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A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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