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
-
Enveloped in twilight mist
they are known only to him -
Until I can fly . . . as the sun goes down
and waves come closer
with the rising tide -
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
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