Diviners A child, I followed him around the field, held a wish-bone between my fingers. And when he paused and...
Foraging Pluck purslane and plantain for salad, shred it small so it slides by skeptics, know you’re kneeling in Eden...
Moving On, Not Moving On I think I knew our new home was two states west of home. But what...
Writing the Land: Foodways and Social Justice is a collection of poems and essays that brings together poets, land protection...
Boluisce I root my fingers, burying them back and down. A twist into black, acidic soil, deeper than anything man-made....
So be it, unto us all – Written in memory of Eadie, my wonderful rabbit, died aged 11, Feb. 13,...
Gyrification There will be time for waiting Enough. Too much Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa watching. Consider the river’s meanders that more and more...
A Thin Place If you walk in a straight line across the beach from the footpath which runs between blue...
Hailstones Why not slow down and pull up next to this black, sideways cow. Could this be a silhouette? Or...
The Last Mile I ran from tail flicking Friesians their eyes, pools of nowhere, and when everywhere wore off I...
There are no blue plaques in our village, no Heaney or Shackelton or Yeats to commemorate. A notable event is...
The vocabulary of whisper begins with fog over the river, a white break in the cloud cover, the great mastiffs,...