NAP
July 6, 2023 by Anjali Misir

When the wind weeps I fall asleep

They gyaff and gather and

plait words into breeze

I sink into their siren songs

instead of coming from a vast ocean deep 

they come from a sky vast 

with clouds 


Sudden wind bursts look like brushstrokes 

slamming to the concrete

like a dry brush on cotton canvas

hairs of air drag on the rock 


Peaceful slumber

I wish I can trap wind bursts in my empty yogurt jar 

so I can release lollipop swirls

and hear their song record spin 


Some whistle and graze

while others howl

looking for an encore so they howl louder 

loud so it slits glass

loud like 6 crows circling a home 

speaking in death’s tongue 


The sky wails

souls that can’t find rest

finding passage on strong winds

riding on looping threads of air we can’t see 


I crack open my window

wind gusts make my curtains dance 

and puff

making them sway like ocean wave 

they slide off my curtains 

to touch my skin with cold 


Twirling autumn leaves until they disappear in blue sky 

I’ve never seen 2 leaves fly so high

together, spinning in circles

going up a spiral but never 

touching 


Ants find shelter

maybe in crumpled paper,

mcdonald’s bags, underneath cardboard stacks, 

in a pigeon's feathers or next to a car tire -

in your pocket 


Teacher’s words tangle

with the wind’s chimes and screeches 

Making it hard to stay awake 




Anjali Misir won third prize for her critical essay "Janet Henry & Me" in the Eleventh Annual Humanities & Sciences Undergraduate Writing contest. Anjali is an Illustration major and Sophomore at the School of Visual Arts. She is excited to see how her artwork and storytelling will grow in the coming school years. Aside from drawing, Anjali enjoys writing about artists that stand out to her, flash fiction, and poetry inspired by moments in her life. In her free time, she watches Planet Earth documentaries.