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April 2018It is blasphemy to separate oneself from the earth and look down on it like a god. It is more than blasphemy; it is dangerous. We can never be gods, after all — but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.
N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms
Long ago, a little gray parrot lived in a green forest. She was a happy bird and loved to fly. One day a dark storm hovered over the forest. Lightning flashed and the forest began to burn.
By Rafe MartinApril 2018I try to look at the big picture. / The sun, ardent tongue / licking us like a mother besotted /with her new cub, will wear itself out. / Everything is transitory.
By Ellen BassApril 2018The reason we act when something threatens our family or our neighborhood is because we love these people and places. Maybe it takes a tangible threat to our home environment to make us realize that we really do love the earth.
By Leath ToninoApril 2018Then ahead I saw a small, dark shape perched on the sand, well back from the water. As I drew closer, the shape revealed itself to be a bird, sitting back on its tail feathers. It was vaguely penguin-like, about eighteen inches tall, with black back and head, white breast and cheeks.
By Richard GoldsteinOctober 2017After fifteen years in prison I was beginning to assume my life couldn’t get any more lopsided and annoying, but now some cruel functionary has started a war against the local swallows.
By Saint James Harris WoodOctober 2017Right now there is a bright-yellow-and-black bird — / whose name I used to know / before I started taking this pill / called Lexapro
By Sybil SmithJuly 2017My father and brother constructed the trap in the basement workshop. I followed them to the forest behind the barn, where they would set it. We lived on a thirteen-acre farm called Merryview, where we raised horses — hunters, jumpers, and Shetland ponies — along with other animals.
By Eaton HamiltonJuly 2017No one in prison is ever coming back. Once we’ve served our time, everything is finally going to work out. We’re all going to stay in touch, so we can share our good news — except I’ve been giving out a fake phone number this entire time. I’m embarrassed to know these men, eyewitnesses to a shameful period of my life I can’t wait to live down: two years in prison for a nonviolent offense.
By Michael FischerJuly 2017When I drank, many people / tried to get me to quit. / When I drank, I drank the way / this cardinal is smashing into / our living-room window again / and again
By Lisa BellamyJune 2017Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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