
Lullaby of a Naturalist || Jay Rafferty

by Jay Rafferty In the spring we couldn’t tell cicada screech from frog call. Our flat perched over a sewer stream, a…
by Jay Rafferty In the spring we couldn’t tell cicada screech from frog call. Our flat perched over a sewer stream, a…
by Ayobami Kayode Child, saliva so white as snow is a deceit. What lies beneath a red tongue isn't always jewels, …
by Camille Daytona horseshow I sometimes I think up names: Mia, Sc arlett, Sam. but I will stay a childless mother— be…
by Sadiq Abdulsalam last night, i caught a silver-grey strand of hair lodged in the bristles of my hairbrush, i tried n…
by Frank Njugi About the ‘Blues’ at first light / With the mist at dawn/ This, an awakening of sorts / His, a story …
by Hannah Fishburn There are times when I have to be ruthless: Everything contaminated goes in the burn pile and so doe…
by Swapna Sanchita Last year, she told me, “Mia, do you know I can fly?” Her eyes sparkled, naughtily, full of that …
by Ceinwen Haydon Drizzle and fog will soon give way to ice and snow, or so the forecast says. I walk Ross sands in fre…
Your hand twitched past mine as we walked through the cemetery looking at roses and the future as the doves convened …
DEAR POET Of the 300 or 400 words in your poem I was ‘moved’— for lack of a better word—by one word that you used. The …