Wednesday, 29 February 2012


You watch the N’anga
throw the bones to the ground
and hope the birds will return.


John Irvine

Tuesday, 28 February 2012

The Point Sur Lighthouse
illuminates the night
again and again.


Richard Cody

Monday, 27 February 2012

On wind stripped branches, a single red-brown oak leaf, curled up like a robin's breast.


another small stone

Sunday, 26 February 2012

a falling leaf
            by a dry vine...


Robert Quiggle III

Saturday, 25 February 2012

with a black eye
        and "trust"
            tattooed on her wrist


Robert Quiggle III

Friday, 24 February 2012

Thursday, 23 February 2012

brief rain— the tender sound from leaves * P K Padhy

Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Rhythmic; crackling breaths move from chest to nose. Who knew that dreams could be so musical?


Elizabeth Maddox

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

An ordinary bus goes past;
I gasp -- its speed & size
suddenly quite terrifying.


Gareth Trew

Monday, 20 February 2012

this moustache
gives me someone else's face
i can feel his long thoughts
in places you left fallow


James Newton

Sunday, 19 February 2012

The Symbol

A crudely painted swastika
on a park wall. The lichen
around it furious, slowly
covering it from budding trees.


Christian Ward

Saturday, 18 February 2012

Broad beans

I pop beans out
from cushioned pods.
A pleasure akin
to the bursting
of bubble-wrap bubbles.


Kylie Dinning
Pausing to pick up small stones

Friday, 17 February 2012

The south-facing window in our family room is long and thin, with eight square metal divisions; it shows little from this high up. But, if I happen to track it, the moon rises and sets across the top two squares each night the sky is clear.


S. E. Ingraham

Thursday, 16 February 2012

westmount fountain
east end jukebox
same empty wind
a squirrel bows on a branch


Steve Myers
Broken Bats

Wednesday, 15 February 2012

A rare moment of stillness, you flop like a raggedy doll, moulding your clay body into the soft contours from which you came.


Shanee Barraclough
Throw me to the sky

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

The mildness of Spring; gentle rain, scents of crushed grass, slippery mud beneath my boots.


Freya Pickard
Dragonscale Clippings

Monday, 13 February 2012

One table companion
Fell-fed femina puts out
Her cigar in left over
Hot chocolate


Alex Damov

Sunday, 12 February 2012

their laughter
a needle pricked
into a voodoo doll


Virginie Colline

Saturday, 11 February 2012

Friday, 10 February 2012

Thursday, 9 February 2012

snow, layers of pale pastel, gossamer folds of fabric flutterig in the wind as the older faceless woman hunched over on this muted of color dawn, first icy snow that sticks to where her brown scuffed tarnished lived-in boots trod.


Emma's Orchard

Wednesday, 8 February 2012

A crescent of spilt dark coffee on a white saucer, the crumbled edge of a digestive biscuit, and the clink of a tea-spoon meeting the edge of the cup.


another small stone

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

The soil is dry. I empty the dregs of tea into the bathroom sink and fill the mug with water. I carry it into the office. I pour water into the pot, where it sinks down towards the roots. The plant drinks. What ordinary miracles.


Fiona Robyn
a small stone

Saturday, 4 February 2012

Funeral Wear (Neglected)

badly fitted suits and stale shirts
stained with nicotine smelling
faintly of moss


James Alden

Friday, 3 February 2012

panicked barks
inside a locked car
the tow truck operator
bites her lip


Lucas Stensland

Thursday, 2 February 2012

Chive blades stretch upwards,
a golden-winged butterfly
smells their spicy scents


Claudia Messelodi