
she bends
to the breeze
allows it to twist her bones
shape her arms
to shade and protect
as she tries hard
to lean towards the sun
to draw upon its warmth
and light
where to now
that she is bent
and has swayed
every which way the wind
has blown
rooted in hardened ground
she stands
weathered and stoic
no one asks if it matters
to her or
if she hurts
© Neetu Malik

wetting my feet
in the old pond
I pause to remember
how it felt
back when the feet
were young and free
but memories wrinkle
and my skin is worn and coarse
to feel the same things
the water in this pond
too murky
to bring back
the clarity of fresh water lilies
and unclouded hopes
(c) Neetu Malik
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