Elm StreetSuzanne ClearyI am so happy to see the man who lives in the house on the corner sit on the porch with a guitar on his knee, one arm drape...
His Country Is Calling MeLibby HartAnd when I say his country,I mean the sweet, sad earth of line and skin. Track of bone, of limb.His country is call...
Her GardenDonald Hall I let her garden go. let it go, let it go How can I watch the hummingbird Hover to sip W...
IdiorrhythmyChad BennettFirst, there was faith -- how a terrestrialbody pulled by the force ofattraction toward earth'...
MirrorRichie HofmannYou'd expect a certain view from such a mirror --clearerthan one that hangs in the entry and decays.I gazepast my reflection t...
The MarrowMichelle O'SullivanThere's a gleam to the trees and meadowthat verges on something heartsick;convent quiet,and rich as a jeweller...
The HindsKathleen JamieWalking in a waking dreamI watched nineteen deerpour from ridge to glen-floor,then each in turn leap,leap the new-raisedpeat-da...
BotanySarah Holland-BattAfter the rain, we went out in pairsto hunt the caps that budded at night:wet handfuls of waxtips and widows,lawyer's wigs...
The GardenerCaitríona O'ReillyThe menu warned that fish caught locallymay contain dangerous levels of cadmiumand isotopes -- or was it allo...
The Sleeping Dogs of EriceStanley Plumly At half-a-mile the thirty marble churches and cobbledmarble streets feel light as air above the sky-blue de...