
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
I missed you
when I turned the corner
near the old bakery
in the drifting
mellow Columbia brews,
fresh loaves and
Darjeeling teas.
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
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When her arrow flies toward my heart, instinct takes over. I shoot.
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