Kim Stafford: Wren’s Nest in a Shed near Aurora
Three tiny eggs in thistledowncupped in a swirl of grass in the pocket of the tool beltI hung on the wall of the shedwhen it finally stood complete—will be three … Continue reading
John Clare: Autumn
Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;
Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.
Margo Berdeshevsky: For Autumn, 2023
yet awake to the fallen
leaves—their many many
tiny burning
hands—
Keith Flynn: The Hyena Men
The spotted hyenas of Ethiopia
know nothing of man’s machinations,
only the sweet smell of their cast off
meat once the sun has slipped behind
the mountain
Derrick Z. Jackson: House Speaker Mike Johnson’s Climate Change Playbook — Deny the Science, Take the Funding
It took no time for Mike Johnson to establish a hefty carbon footprint as new Speaker of the House. In the first legislative act under his watch, his Republican majority last month … Continue reading
Michael Kleber-Diggs: The Grove
Planted here as we are, see how we want
to bow and sway with the motion of earth
in sky.
Mike Vargo: ‘Cat’s Cradle,’ Community, and Fascism
Maybe Bokonon had a point. Bokonon, for those not familiar, is a character in Kurt Vonnegut’s 1963 novel Cat’s Cradle. On a fictional Caribbean island, a holy man lives in the mountains. … Continue reading
James Crews: The Trouble with Beauty
The trouble with beauty
is the clinging to it,
wanting things to stay
the way they first appeared
Compendium of Scientific, Medical, and Media Findings Demonstrating Risks and Harms of Fracking and Associated Gas and Oil Infrastructure
The risks and harms of fracking for public health, the climate, and environmental justice are real and growing.
Chuck Collins: The Radicalization of Climate Activism
Wynn Bruce self-immolated on the steps of the United States Supreme Court Building, just as the high court was poised to weaken laws regulating carbon emissions.
Linda Parsons: Two Poems
I’m not a healer, though maybe
I am—my ordinary hands laid on the scathing past
to cool its sear, my palms a bowl cupping
the last drop of day in blind descent.
Lord Byron: Epitaph to a Dog
…all the Virtues of Man
Without his Vices.
Robert Wrigley: Cricket and Cicada
After an hour I can’t tell them
one from another. They’ve become
two parts of an uncommon harmony,
cricket melody then cicada melody
until there’s no melody at all
Baron Wormser: The Dark Sky | Politics and Its Discontents
It may be that the love that lives within us cannot be turned toward something as large and seemingly abstract as the earth. But the earth isn’t abstract at all. Each moment is local and real and is always a place where we might begin.
