Pressed Flowers

Free Verse Poem by Neetu Malik

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They are dried flowers—

picked when young
blossoms without dye, rich
with natural hues, scented
like mountain air, carried
by Spring at her finest

until they were
severed for their beauty
preserved, taken unawares
into others' storybooks
to be hidden and weighted
in alien pages

now they are
just pressed flowers
stunted, their colors faded
easily crushed between

finger and thumb

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Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythm and draws upon diverse, multicultural experiences that have shaped her life. Born and raised in India, she spent several years in Europe and settled in the United States with her family.

See more of her work at www.asliceoforange.net/