(Prose) La Llorona and the Dark Green Religion of Hope by Sara Wright
I recently returned to Maine after what can only be called a harrowing journey from the Southwest. Grateful to feel beloved earth under my feet, I walk along the pine Read More …
I recently returned to Maine after what can only be called a harrowing journey from the Southwest. Grateful to feel beloved earth under my feet, I walk along the pine Read More …
At dawn I look for sign. You are orphaned – without a mother to guide you. Did you find my offering? Friendship for one wearing bearskin is a risk you Read More …
Full Seed Moon 3/9/20 I see a beautiful fruit tree that is in full bloom with delicate pink blossoms and a man comes and attacks it violently – Oh, all Read More …
We Could Have Listened I made my way to the river, heard the song of a starving body barely rippling over black stone. Man’s* need to control her flow may Read More …
When the Cranes Come I remember who I am – A woman with wings. When the Cranes Come I listen with rapt attention I am a woman with wings. When Read More …
I kneel before my woodstove kindling fire in sapphire blue, flaming orange gratitude rising unbidden. Bare limbs etch stories against curved canvas empty space – sky or dome as Venus Read More …