Sunflowers I will plant sunflowers in the hollows we have dug with a rusty spade it is time to pull old roots rotten with dead habit in this neglected garden long-choked by winter’s breath it is time to till the soil let it soak in fresh April rain steam in this year’s sun and exhale pungent fumes until its pores are free to seed new grass and soft beds for my flowers. © Neetu Malik
-
crow flies overhead
I hear pandemonium -
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 -
my room
a sanctuary
at the end of the day -
It must have been
a stormy night
when love flew out the window
of my vacant roomlike a feather
from a molting bird.
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Lovely!
Thank you, Veronica. 🙂
Congratulations, Neetu.
Much in my life has changed since our collaborative efforts, but, it is good to see you continuing your excellent, dare I say, “spiritual” artistry.
Thank you, Mac, for your gracious comment. You know how my poems come to me. I hope to hear more about the change you have mentioned, and I hope life is being kind to you.