Each time the seasons change
It rises above sea level
Waiting to be released
Waiting to flood and force
A reboot
Each time the seasons change
It tightens in to the tightest of knots
Ready to break, to allow a clean break
A new start
Each time the seasons change
It builds, it boils, it twists
Filling my eyes, my soul, my body
But there’s no clean break here
No reboot
Just static silence
Until the season changes and it dissolves temporarily
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
It is my belief that those who invented brunch, like me, did it as an excuse to eat more. Last year on a lazy Sunday,
Because there are so many articles and blogs and conversations that are so filled with how awful it is to be a teacher today and
In May, there’s a calm that sweeps across south India. The heat slows all living things down and the wind is thought of as a