Providing grounds for the greening of human language.

 

 

 

 

Memories of a Fallen Branch by Chris Peck

Thursday, April 11th, 2013

Innocence splintered when I watched the tree branch fall. Sleeping in tight corners, the wind, the rain, the mourning trees all spoke my name as they cried out. But in those sounds—the creaking, the whining and pounding, the whistling of the wind between leaves and branches— There was clarity, the possibility of death so that […]

My Latest Trip to the Berkeley Botanical Gardens by Theric Jepson

Friday, February 22nd, 2013

My Latest Trip to the Berkeley Botanical Gardens was accomplished with more than the usual number of boys in tow. Four in fact. Three mine  and a friend. To see the metasequoia and false rocks—and mating newts (it’s that time of year) spotted first and immediately by my three-year-old who can’t see a dirty sock […]

The Sky’s an Ocean, As All Eagles Know by Mark Penny

Monday, January 28th, 2013

The sky’s an ocean, as all eagles know Who plumb the splendour nest to keel, A craze of very ships in fleets that flow On voyages forbidden whale and seal. Its currents race, chained to the planet’s turn, Churned by the jilted passion of the sun, Exacting fervor from the veil-eyed fern Mured in a […]

What the Winter Means by Mark Penny

Friday, January 25th, 2013

You will be asking what the winter means. A crack, A crackle, A lament. The flat, sad surface of the earth Stuck in the ice That traps a pond. The green gone gray and white Alone Or clothed As if the crystals of the sky Had slipped their tassels, Slid the flimsy loom And flapped […]

Ice Walking by Mark Penny

Thursday, January 24th, 2013

A nameless beaver sprang the trap. Must have swum through it on his way up shore. The two dogs, Jax and Cleo, crouched in their winter coats, Gripped and pulled, But the snare held, Jealous of its prey. I found them: Red paw prints in the savaged snow, Scrabbling blindly at the brink. They parted […]

Pastoral by Jeremiah Burrow

Thursday, September 27th, 2012

Against an autumn background I fall again into pastures not mine, dispossessed. Through young woods I walk (the old giants have all been felled) and grow tired; the footpath is overgrown and hard to keep. I stop and rest upon an old pasture wall— where are the sheep, the range? I am this stone wall, […]

Big-backed Rain by Patricia Karamesines

Monday, September 3rd, 2012

Above Four Corners, nimbus-shouldered gods rev the engines of their summer rainmakers. East in Colorado, up from Utah’s deep country, rashes of electrical impulses bloom on chaffing skins of water and air-born ice. One silver-plated maelstrom sheers from Sleeping Ute’s igneous brow. It steams into Utah, anvil raised to the highest stratum of the day, […]

Orange Rain by A.J. Huffman

Wednesday, August 29th, 2012

_______________________________________ This is the second in a triptych of poems by A.J. Huffman. You can find the first, and her bio, here. Photo by Gary Curtis via Wikimedia Commons–”Gold Coast (from the Spit)”

A Break in Drops by A. J. Huffman

Tuesday, August 28th, 2012

The storm rises, exquisite dawn. Sun forcing backlit bows of silver streaming about the blustering black. Wind rolls the picture; motion floods the sky. A gravel’s whisper now, but the image remembers just how loud the lightning cried. __________________________________ A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida.  She has published four […]

Storm Watch by Bradley McIlwain

Monday, August 27th, 2012

for Brian G. Lightning. A ghost-like stillness descends over open water. Tornado weather. From the window you scramble to recover the CD’s and boom box, but Metallica is already electrified. Party on, Garth! as silhouettes bloom origami boats paddling like ants against the current. __________________________ Bradley McIlwain will be familiar to WIZards as a previous […]