Upon arrival it’s clear:
English booms from speakers;
television, radio, conversations all around
it should be familiar,
comforting even–
instead the easy rounded sounds
of a language she knows inside out
feels wrong; sounds wrong
Disconnected
she tries to stay up past nine o’ clock;
forcing her body to remember:
this, too, is home,
this,
too,
is
home.
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 grasp the color between my thumb and index finger, light and flexible Glide the pastel against paper like it’s a skate on ice, smooth and
a single tear glides down her cheek like a snail out for a walk down the driveway slow, slow, slow It’s time, her body knows