“You can call me Mr. S,” my ninth-grade biology teacher told the class on our first day, “for the sssss a snake makes.” Eyes sunken behind wirerimmed glasses, he had a wide mouth with no lips that I recall, and long, stubble-blue cheeks like leather stretched tight to the bone. While he lectured, a red…
Tag: nature
TWO POEMS – Elizabeth Stott
We made the heads of Styrofoam
so not to be too heavy on their frail necks.
Hearts? Simply-fashioned, from lumps of stone.
ONE POEM – M.E. Muir
Where cars lie dying
in Ligurian scrapyards
the Via Aurelia
travels slowly past
ONE POEM – Gerry Stewart
The fluttering ribbon of blue
outside my window deepens
but holds fast to the birches.
ONE POEM – James Ducat
My friend the tarot reader repeats,
but she is a little drunk,
translucent fingers unfurling,
while shade, levered by branches,
ONE POEM – Richard Brostoff
Above the house a low sun like a wrecking ball,
the world at the horizon splintered like a Rothko
TWO POEMS – Natalie Crick
I want to feel
the warm milk of your smile.
I want to see your reflection
in the moon’s mirror, polished like spring bones.
ONE POEM – Clifford Brooks
Vacant of leaves
and shell-wrapped gifts,
dad and I can see the sky.
ONE POEM – Linda M. Crate
the fox and i
shared one glance
i think about it all the time
TWO POEMS – Sara Nesbitt Gibbons
Their heads out, curved eyes on us,
reciprocating the salty, convex cabin.
Look, there, beautiful wooden bowling balls, said my mum.
PHOTOGRAPHY – Keith Moul
Keith Moul is a poet of place, a photographer of the distinction of place. His digital photos strive for a colourful vision with their high contrast and saturation. Both his poems and photos are published widely and available on his website, http://poemsphotosmoul.blogspot.com. Lost Lip (2012) The Arches Provincial Park, Newfoundland Ran Out of…
TWO POEMS – Josephine Greenland
Josephine Greenland is a British-Swedish writer holding an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Birmingham. A prose writer at heart, she is currently working on her first novel. When not writing, she can be seen wandering in the mountains or playing her violin. U-nomia A biological cartographer in a bracken of unclassifieds…
Porridge 