
crow flies overhead
I hear pandemonium
shrieking birds gone berserk
my peace disturbed
through my window
I peek
to see a world gone awry
a baby bird in its beak
the black crow on sleek wings
no match for smaller things
always comes back
to Darwin
© Neetu Malik
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.
she bends
to the breeze
allows it to twist her bones
shape her arms
to shade and protect
I see you will haggle over your wares
sell them to me for the price I ask
I know you have many gods
little and large, in stock
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?
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