Tuesday, 30 September 2008

The last tiger swallowtail sips the geranium in the sun of the last September Saturday


Charlotte Babb
Miss Charlotte's Babblings

Monday, 29 September 2008

naked in the boat
waiting for the sun between
two big clouds


Monika Thoma-Petit

Sunday, 28 September 2008

Waist high in the grassy field, three deer lift their heads as the train passes. Five minutes down the line, another deer runs alongside the train.


Juliet Wilson
Crafty Green Poet

Friday, 26 September 2008

Coffee Grounds

If I were to hold my heart in your kitchen, with its pink curtains and chartreuse stove and plastic burners glowing supernatural orange, I'd fire up the griddle and open freezer doors. Streaming hot milk, I would call you on the backline, I'd use the number I'd found as the train lurched by, in my favorite blue journal I'd sketch with my favorite black pencil. There I would copy - I'm only a scribe decorating sacred text - the code messaged on a billboard selling milk from happy, only happy black and white cows. It was you to me, streaming time.


Deb Scott
Stoney Moss

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Suddenly it's a goose-bump day, a cover-up-your-skin day


Barbara F. Ray

Wednesday, 24 September 2008

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

Saturday night at the Ritz, we watch them swing through smokedrifts. Spun out, girls come back like cyclones.


Jo Hemmant

Monday, 22 September 2008

Human history is only 100 lifetimes old.


Matt Westwood

Sunday, 21 September 2008

the balcony is littered with torn leaves and a white blanket of hail


Barbara Hollace

Saturday, 20 September 2008

Chipmunks playing chase on the roof make me wonder why I am always sitting at my computer instead of enjoying the sun outside.


Tamara Staples
Desire to Heal

Friday, 19 September 2008

Tall sleek trunks finger a silky morning sky, catching first light in green baskets rimming July's horizon. The forest breath rises and falls in cicada song.


rm mist
What The Muses Leave Behind

Thursday, 18 September 2008

Richard Anthony Bacon – 20.10.29 - 16.07.08

Om mane pame hum whispered into his ear, his fingers move within mine...

His eye is open...what does he see?

Waxen skin. My dad is not there. Now I understand the separateness of body and mind.

Kate Bacon
Pier to Peer

Wednesday, 17 September 2008

welcome, Theo

Through the cinched halo of my pelvis, this earthbound angel descends.


Sage Cohen
Sage A Vu

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

Five minutes before midnight, a gnat attracted to the reflected light of my computer monitor dives into my eye.


Dave Bonta
Via Negativa

Monday, 15 September 2008

This Lilly is a long-boned woman with legs like skewers and empty breasts lying on the furrows of ribs. Her smile comes from an old heart, strong beyond reason. She smiles at laughing visitors who kiss, kiss, kiss, planting babies in her lap and presents on the bed. She tells them that she’s had lunch, but the menu escapes her; food appears like magic - chicken is fish, porridge is soup and everything is beautiful.


Irene Cunningham
Runaway Granny

Sunday, 14 September 2008

Walking walking all day seems neverending, aching, only to drive out and see the views of mountains and sea and feel whole again.


Nalini Harvey

Saturday, 13 September 2008

Crow croaking in the rain – top branch – each croak thrown out like a seal bobbing for fish – the same movement of head and neck and body.


A. F. Harrold
A. F. Harrold

Friday, 12 September 2008

Guilt, responsibility, fear, self-doubt, remorse, stress, anger, exhaustion, sadness, grief, frustration, anxiety, lack of knowledge. Those were the rocks in my wheelbarrow. And then came one more: “He’d get better faster at home".


Jeanne Waite Follett
Gullible's Travels

Thursday, 11 September 2008

Wednesday, 10 September 2008

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

Footprints on the old tarmac stepped over a volcano errupting a golden dandelion.


Marie Fullerton

Monday, 8 September 2008

Through the blind's horizontals and scaffolding verticals, the roofers flicker as they climb to work.


Clare Grant
Three Beautiful Things

Sunday, 7 September 2008

Warm morning sunlight
on summer-hopeful shoulders.
Daisy freckled lawns.


Rachel Green
When The Dogs Bite

Saturday, 6 September 2008

Engulfed in husband's waterproofs, I brave the rain - for goodbye kisses.


Anna Reiers
My Writing Life

Friday, 5 September 2008

Summer morning in the Peak; tiny horses gathered in dozens in the windy fields.


Jo Bell
Bell Jar

Thursday, 4 September 2008

Honest. Tasty. Real. Chewing the words outside the Dorset cereal packet, I find more nourishment inside.


Kate Burton

Wednesday, 3 September 2008

The beach from a condo balcony: occasional glimpses of steel gray waves through vanilla buildings in a sea of concrete, punctuated by the dark green poodle heads of palm trees.


Elizabeth Westmark
Switched at Birth

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

the wind moving through the dried grasses...nature's snare drums


Janet Smith
Mid-Life Clarity

Monday, 1 September 2008

the electrician tells me that the cigales start singing once the temperature reaches 30 degrees, and today they do, and stop, in an instant, as a cool breeze rushes over me and through the trees


Lynne Rees
an open field