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.
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
Love is the whoosh of a dishwasher filled uncomfortably to the brim, only to be emptied days later in a hurried, not-into-details way, which results
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