A forest of naked trees
sway before me
nude branches,
scaly trunks
last of the leaves dangle—
stragglers stubbornly clinging.
With each burst of wind,
their limbs tip left to right
like graceful ballerinas
dancing against the sky.
This forest before me,
it guides me towards
the discovery
that I, too, can sway
with the wind—
instead of
against
it.
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.
In you I found the layer, the one and only layer that’s still unseen by most of my family: the whole me, complete circle. though
My friend, Walter, stood about five feet and eight inches tall. He had sparkly warm blue eyes, weathered pink skin, and an electric, infectious smile. His wild eyebrows were often furrowed reflecting his deep thought, worries, and sadness. I met Walter after he was discovered living deep in the wild Northern California mountains.
Five days after I posted about my awesome Camry, who has stood the test of time and seven moves, she didn’t pass the state inspection.
I lie horizontal eyes fixed on the blinding sun, sparks of needly pain spread across my scalp, they follow the pathways of my nerves And