The leaves sizzle on the wind
dangling in crowds like kids on monkey bars.
They twinkle in the early evening sky:
stripes of green, yellow, brown.
I see them for the first time,
truly alive,
declaring silence and stillness in breathy whispers.
Masses of box-squared frames speed past;
their owners vacuumed into a throbbing cacophony.
But I,
I listen.
And it’s my first:
A silky premiere.
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.
In you I found the layer, the one and only layer that’s still unseen by most of my family: the whole me, complete circle. though
Illustration by Jill Kimura The Back Alley of The Subconscious by Celeste Bloom when you’re homesick, you can close your eyes and hear the whispers