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...

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...