Silence by Neetu

Silence

between you and me
and the crashing
of the sea

no sound is heard
but that of seagulls
circling in the sky

drop by drop

silence trickles

lengthening each

moment

before it runs dry

© Neetu Malik 

The Perfect Death by Neetu

They have been sitting on the porch 
 in reclining chairs, an old couple, 
 watching the world go by 
  
 each evening the sun's shadows pass 
 over their faces revealing 
 nothing more than a few lines 
 of contentment 
  
 they never touch, their hands 
 always resting neatly on their laps, 
 or sometimes, they hold a glass of wine. 
  
Passersby note with some surprise 
 how unmoved they are by changes 
 like when they widened roads 
and built that new high-rise 
 right in front of their little row house, 
 dug out cherry trees and tall maples 
 that grew on both sides 
  
 but no one wants to ruffle sunshine 
 with questions—
 they just wave and smile. 
  
 Today they sit as usual, 
 the last of the sun's rays flicker 
 grudgingly, a little hesitant, it seems 
  
 the woman extends her hand,
 touches his
  
 their eyes meet—
 her hand still on his, a quiver 
 passes her lips, 
  
 she closes her eyes 
 as he covers her hand 
 with his.  

© Neetu Malik