Today I started the hunt again
same one I’ve done over and over
for fourteen years.
I put on the camo, wiped clean the rifle, strapped on the boots.
sat against a tree in search of
the birds
I see daily—free flying against that pink sunset
and I thought to myself:
if I get one for myself,
maybe
I, too, can free fly.
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.
Like a snowstorm in July I sit jumbled, puzzled, churning A shiny old-new problem presents itself, begging, poking, jangling me My toes curl over the
I lay on my back Listening to the intricate drumming Of the rain against the metal roof Split in half by My right side filled
Tiny brown beads sizzle in my non-stick pan, slowly enlarging. I stick my nose closer to get a whiff of the mustard seeds I’m pickling