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.
Between sunset’s fiery streaks
slipping into the sea, and
the rising of the silver moon
is my twilight zone.
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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