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.
She scrunches up her face and bites her lip, as if the music is coming from deep inside her, Gallops in a figure eight around
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
wake, look, prepare: curl dress choose pack drive, think, listen dream reflect notice meditate lock, walk, prepare: sign-in type write clean organize copy whole-punch email
When it comes to you my friend, I have an unyielding fight in me, a forest fire—raging, no amount of rain can put out. I