Rupert Brooke: The Fish
O world of lips, O world of laughter,
Where hope is fleet and thought flies after,
Of lights in the clear night, of cries
That drift along the wave and rise
Paul Christensen: The Breaking of the Sky
We had been waiting for two long, agonizing months for rain to come, for anything to cast a veil over a furious sun that dried out fields, withered up grape vines, even discouraged the cicadas from droning in the pines. Now the rain started falling, thick, icy gobbets of it, drenching us the moment it struck.
Derrick Z. Jackson: Despite Climate Change
The title of supervisory wildlife biologist for the United States Fish and Wildlife Service does little justice to Linda Welch. In practice, she is the housing and unusual development secretary for seabirds on Maine’s Petit Manan Island.
Dawn Potter: About Mothers
How can I judge the worth of a brooding life?
In a busy restaurant my giant son leans his head on my shoulder,
and I am his mother again, lifting his memory into my arms.
Vox Populi: OMG! An Interview with Michael Simms about his Debut Novel ‘Bicycles of the Gods’
Who wouldn’t love a story about badass vigilante nuns and the end of the world?
Sandy Solomon: On a Visit to Friends
I’m drawn to the window where the hummingbirds
come; the shrill sound of wings precedes them;
then they hover at the red sugar water,
feeding before they’re gone.