wind whistles
in the distance
where desert sands
meet the sky
undulating waves of sound
break the silence
of remorse—
self-inflicted wounds
soothed by softly falling night
a balm of star-speckled skies
covers them
as lulling music hums and whooshes
almost like an ocean, rhythmic
cooling blistered souls
who wander lost
in the unknown
© Neetu Malik
-
in a brief burst
of fiery red and gold
we burned…. -
Paris, they say,
is beautiful
when it rains—
now I know. -
Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived.
-
it is just another day
with not much to say–
so I pick up my thoughts
make a crumpled ball
to simply toss away -
Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived.
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