Impermanence

by Anne Visser Ney By the time the dogs and I arrive at the beach, the loggerhead is long gone. Only her eggs, telltale nest excavation, and crawls remain as te...

Horse Tradition

by Mary Wlodarski Like all tradition, a habit becomes ritual. Soon humans forget why we started. It could be the practice of checking a gate, or filling extra w...

Cinnabar

by Miranda Cichy You might ask why this ragwort finds itself piped with striped icing – liquorice and caramel slinking in sync. Why the eye snags on that which ...

It Wonders Me

by Nadja Lubiw-Hazard Opossums have thirteen nipples. I was unhappy with this asymmetry, picturing the two even rows of six and that lonely, unpaired, thirteent...

Look, a Lizard!

by Rick Kempa or rather, the lizard, my neighbor (not my “pet”) who, like me, spends the day moving in and out of the sun, I with my lawn chair, he (less laden)...

Equivocal

by Jane Lovell Light spills both ways: silhouetting stands of blackthorn on the lane and climbing the slow hill, striping the turf, its grey horse racing a big ...