Americana

by Anna Kisby raton, es-see-ban, culu, suk-suk Edge of the freeway, weaving like a drunk man, someone is lost on two legs stumbling into paths of cars, veering ...

Dogspel

by Ann Cefola In the beginning was the Bone and the Bone was good and strong, it grew outward in layers, flushed inside by beating blood, held by organs, muscle...

Alchemy

by Carol L. Deering The fox on Riverview, beautiful as it lay. Small pointed face, black-tipped snout, white fur lifting in a paw’s sweep of pathos, its coat th...

Doubting Finches

by Scott Edward Anderson The house finch nest in my porch light has a curious architecture, made entirely of found things: dried seed heads from last year’s col...

Vixen

by Stella Wulf She lies low, watches the last crow ________fletch the bloodshot sky, ________________straight as a quarrel home to roost. A tatter of bats whisk...

Fluke

by Rebecca Gethin People wander the shore looking to sea as though waiting for a god to manifest, or a sign of an epiphany, an oracle from the expanse. We stare...