Rosy cirrus clouds spread their wings across the blush skies, carelessly sprawling their wispy feathers
You see, it’s solstice and they are showing off,
Sweeping the horizon like rulers of the heavens, trains of their gowns blowing behind them in the summer wind.
And I?
I tilt my head in respect, bowing unworthy.
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.
Each sunny day, I jog downstairs with my lunch bag and sit at the same park bench in the courtyard. The one drenched in sunlight;
I am–but damn I try hard not to be– I am yet anotha girl manipulated into—cornered into enabling your male privileged ass That one who
Phone Conversation with Older Female Relative: Her: I told Bill you moved to a private school. Me: Oh yeah? Her: Yeah, he said you probably
I dream Everyday Looking for clarity Searching Searching the train for answers Outside the landscape: green, lush, infinite looks back with serenity I wander through