Yearning
I glisten in tears
like an April dawn,
covered in dew
like blades of grass,
whispering notes
like softly falling raindrops,
I call your name
like one who is lost –
listen achingly for the sound
of your answering call.
© 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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