Winter’s Coming
November draws me
into bleak arms
I wonder where the leaves
have gone—
though I know, yet I walk in
nameless hope
of miracle
in this ghastly fog
so dense, so deep that
I am lost
stepping on crumbled
autumn stalks
I remember your face
with wisdom drawn,
how it still shone
after its light was robbed
but now there’s just me,
the part that’s left of your artery
the purple sunset a reminder
of approaching dark,
who I am and how
mortal we are.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
first snow
flakes of a poem
fall on my page -
Shall we dip our brush
in the deep blue dusk
so we may paint joy
we stole from
the passing day
before it grows dark? -
all I hear is this song…
carried to my ears upon waves
as they ebb and return
a symphony of love
played on instruments
of the heart— -
sultry afternoon
in the vast cornfields
reaping gold -
I wait eagerly
for absolute darkness
to lose my shadow
Featured Books
SHADOWS AT DAWN
Jax and Mindy have to put aside their overwhelming attraction, but if they live through this, all bets are off…
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PINDLEBRYTH OF LENLAND: THE FIVE ARTIFACTS
Pindlebryth and Darothien struggle against betrayal, international intrigue, and an unseen puppet-master, as they race to follow a bewildering trail of ancient clues to locate the most powerful of the Artifacts.
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ROAD TO YOU
Investigative reporter Gemma Wade has been dispatched to her own personal purgatory—small town Marietta, Montana—to write a fluffy, romantic piece about the unprecedented spike in marriages there.
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