be happy she says, her soft arms hold me as I lean into them seeking reassurance a promise to protect am I so old, I wonder to need that which I gave so freely, assuming I was the stronger when she was frail am I so lucky, I ask looking at the starry skies as if the milky way might hold the answer but then I stop look into her eyes and know the love of a daughter
© Neetu Malik
last night’s hurricane blew the roof off
pieces of felt lay on the street like bits of rubber tires
She needs to dig deep
to pull the roots
that grow under her feet
to do so requires strength
It must have been
a stormy night
when love flew out the window
of my vacant room
like a feather
from a molting bird.
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