New Day

By Priya Joshi

At the anchors of midnight the harrowed breath

of the moon sweeps clean across what was

into a vast unknown.

This is a darkness few recognize.

This is the hour you know you’re not a saint.

I cannot sleep. I can not sleep.

What I wouldn’t give for a single moment of silence

amidst the righteous static

of a faithless mind.




Priya Joshi works and lives in New York City, where she writes, reads, and eats. Currently she’s a writer and literary strategist for a small publication firm in New Jersey (yeah, she commutes), and spends her free time atop the two wheels of her Trek roadster—or napping when she’s not so ambitious. A graduate of Marymount Manhattan College, her essays have received one honorable mention and one win in the Mortimer Levitt Essay Contest, 2008 and 2010, respectively.

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