Packing his things and one of you is crazy
It is your job, you say, to keep telling the stories
poetry
Saltambiques
Kristine makes klinger
Late in the season yet another defence of nature writing
Where are the songs of spring? Not over
The Web
September's a month spun by spiders.
Wading Willows Beach
Into the water the boy walks. The water seems to brim
Ducks
We love to service attractive greed.
Dead Whale on the Ferry Causeway
Your only mourners are the stars.
Tended Meadow
Not the ocean but the bay, or is it inlet.
Property
Under the sky, the lake.
The Question
The angel, what I thought was an angel, hovered
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Current Issue: No. 301
