
I was leaning
by the window
standing outside
looking in—
a screen of cobwebs
in between
trapping memories
beaten thin
scantily clad
in make believe,
they shuddered fitfully;
shrouded transparencies
drenched in solemn tears,
entreating release.
©Neetu Malik
First published in The Poetic Bond VI Anthology, Willowdown Press, UK.
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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