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...

Warts and All

by Jessica Groenendijk I am passionate about cats. I admire their fluid grace and their shape pleases me. Not for me the slavish neediness of dogs, I prefer the...

Footnotes

by Brian Johnstone It’s the pattern of a dance, not slow, slow, quick, quick, slow; but slow, slow, slow: the macro prints that show the steps – not feet, but f...

Prairie Dog

by Tricia Orr In your red clay chamber, you lift your velvet pincushion of an ear – what do you hear? Biologists have recorded you. If I wear blue your alarm ca...

Spinal Tap

by Kathy Miles He’s a motley, a bag of pick-and-mix. Black and white bullseyes, caramel, a splash of raspberry ruffle under his tail. He’s drumming ...

Golden Eagle

by Garry MacKenzie Ravens have him out of his depth, daring collisions until he’s forced to break his soar. They tumble him round the cliffs and out of sight: I...