Sunflowers
I will plant sunflowers
in the hollows we have dug
with a rusty spade
it is time to pull old roots
rotten with dead habit
in this neglected garden
long-choked
by winter’s breath
it is time to till the soil
let it soak in fresh April rain
steam in this year’s sun
and exhale pungent fumes
until its pores are free
to seed new grass
and soft beds for my flowers.
© 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.
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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
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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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