A myriad of branches spread
like veins in a body–
a screen door for the sky
thick and thin
strong and slim
lines, matrices of dark brown
stand independently in union
against the morning dew.

A myriad of branches spread
like veins in a body–
a screen door for the sky
thick and thin
strong and slim
lines, matrices of dark brown
stand independently in union
against the morning dew.
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.
I wish I could let go of you You with your crushing sarcasm laughing at it all like it’s no big deal– to treat me
The sharp eruption thunders next to me, I am deaf, but for the ringing in my ears it whispers: say something, speak up, stand up
Move, move, move! I know sounds like common sense and even dumb as teachers spend most of their day on their feet, but usually we
Two vacations, both alike in dignity, In fair Springfield (where we lay our scene) From annual girls trips to surprising spouses, Where civilian illness and