Seasonal Fruit
in a brief burst
of fiery red and gold
we burned….
our flame
inextinguishable
in Autumn’s blasting
wind song
as it whooshed
past our ears with barely
a tickle
ripe as apples
sweetened by the sun
we bit into the luscious fruit
of seasonal love
but fires
do not last and winter must come
yet, for that fleeting moment
we were gloriously
young
©Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
life spills . . .
forming red rivulets in sand
in the vast desert
man’s fury against man
reasons I do not understand -
spring has come
and gone
summer breeze nudges
dense foliage to dance -
they said to remember crawdads
asked me to listen for their song
when my heart was heavy
and my sorrow dark -
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.
-
the wolves are quiet tonight
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