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
-
I carve a piece of blue sky
for the dark days ahead -
ong shadows
the afternoon s t r e t c h e s us
on the sidewalks
-
Between sunset’s fiery streaks
slipping into the sea, and
the rising of the silver moon
is my twilight zone. -
I was leaning
by the window
standing outside
looking in— -
by the river
he looks lost
his face appears ancient
in rumination
under the sycamores’
embracing shade
thinks he might see
God
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