Monday, July 10, 2017




It was laid again and again
across a blank sheet
which mirrors the only desperation
of setting sun
of getting tanned.

Once the wild grass is uprooted
scent of rain drowns
in mind valley of mist and clouds
of steep hills where no way goes between those trees.

However there is a name scribbled
I keep on sending all my good wishes
to places and breeze.


Dark horizon is often
how we keep two wheels moving.

Pitch in where you see soft spot
no one already knew
one who digged it did made
some noise.

Is now where a tree's shade
where a koel's song is usual
you look at my face
and I turn eastwards
where the Sun be.


No shore or cliff
border or edge or reason
in deep trances of overlapping valley
what is distant.

If love is a barometer or bond
why rain spills over to stream.

Trees appear like stretched arms
when the wind overtakes
path long and demure between scant grasses.

I am that ripened bud
in winter's first threshold still
within one's sheaf.


NEELAM DADHWAL is a poet from Chandigarh, India. Her poems has been published in Readomania, Kritya, Muse India, Indian Poetry Review, Literary Yard, The Unknown Pen and anthologies on women international, peace and humanity. Her latest book, "Footprints" deals with aspects of womanhood. As a haiku poet, she has been published in Contemporary Haibun Online, Atlas Poetica, Living Haiku Anthology, Haibun Online, World Haiku Association. Her work as a Shahai artist has been exhibited in two group exhibitions in Chandigarh and Panchkula in 2015.

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