Mitra Samal’s Silence Has A Sound is a home to a warm collection of poems that......

  Nora sipped her tea from the porcelain cup left by her grandmother, her lips avoiding......

The ash falls like dirty snow over the Ward of Shards, coating the corrugated tin roofs......

We call her Mother Nature. And then we treat her exactly as we would our mother.......

birdcalls in theneck of palingair betweenbuildings. song knotsin the silence beforenoise fromparking lots climbsinvisible stepsto terraces....

The leaves, they wail all night  The lament of yellowed leaves  is the mournful vigil of the......

There remains an orange peel map under my collarbones,By the time we meet, it will rot......

it has become     a reconciliation  this return to the jaws of the river        waters......