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.
I used to believe that luxury meant jaunting off to the Mediterranean for a month or sailing around the world for a year–something dramatic and
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
In the corner of my mind she resides, large heavy cloak, dark, deep-set eyes—a constant reminder Her inky black clothes spill easily, if I let
My silence seemed like abandonment, neglect, angry to you on those days when I asked for a reprieve, a moment to gather, mourn, feel. It