Making work in parallel, in conversation with the work of others, broadened our perspective of possible.
Simple Pleasures
Anya Toomre
Morning Fog
Beverly Delidow
Morning fog
softens trees to
shadows, new forms emerge from
what isn’t seen
The dog is hauling deer parts from
treasure-spotting, soon
he’ll have enough to build his own
Moment new and old, I’ve been
here before, but not this
here, this moment
wondering what the week will bring
or take
I have no more mooring than the
cloud-bound trees, a lone
dove huddles, where is the
flock
Then it is here, jostling,
pecking, and you wonder
why you wondered
Safety in numbers only goes
as far as the beak
at your back, the tiny
toenails decked in
innocent down
The sun rises, fog burns, the dog
trots back proud with the latest
haul, and the doves all
lift their wings
Tide’s Out
Laura Tucker
Morning Reveille
Scott Gilbertson
Expanding Our Sense of Personhood
Sue Heatherington
My thinking has been
far too small.
Too small for my mind and heart
and too small for my soul.
I am not just ‘me, myself and I’
I am ‘we, us and other’
connected by invisible threads
that weave our cloak
of personhood.
And that changes
everything.
Compassion Is an Antidote to Shame
Charlotte Cronquist
Elephant
Jayashree Krishnan
Big Tusker Tim
Kathy Karn
Confirmation Bias
Manu Satsangi
Emerald City
Gail Boenning
Verde Que Te Quiero Verde
Inma J. Lopez
Shenanigans
Jennifer Hole
I decided to get the broccoli pot pie. I know it has gluten – and dairy – but it’s quick, and I was hungry. I told myself something about meat-free being better for the climate and dropped it in my basket. I noticed the new guy from my yoga class standing in the freezer section, near the soy-based meat products. I thought, it’s funny, you never notice someone, he’s probably been shopping here all this time and I would have never paid attention until I saw him in yoga this morning. I sort of tried to catch his eye, to acknowledge that I recognized him, but he seemed to be super focused on the vegan cheezecake, so I turned to go checkout.
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Ridges Rise
Matthew Word Bain
Urban Sketch 2
Xiuming Liang
A Walk in the Klamath Basin
Nick Burdick
New possibilities emerged and together we considered enough.
Tired
Marijke van Veldhoven
Doing Gentle With an Edge
Helena Roth
Winter’s Invitation
Mary Ellen Bratu
Being Enough
Alison Coates
Who Am I
Amanda Judd
Blood, Bears and Golden Tee, Not Necessarily in That Order
Patrick McNerthney
This guy’s blood squirted pretty much on me at the start of our honeymoon. I was a brand-new tech in an ER and I wanted this healthcare/emergency services gig to bolster my resume as I attempted to enter the fire service despite a healthy fear of heights, fire and driving oversized vehicles. Wanted it so bad that when a scheduling error resulted in my required presence during what should have been my first glorious night of matrimony I instead found myself clamping my hand down on the arm of a very hairy man with bad veins.
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Chokehold
Ajike Kendrick Asegun
I’m tellin’.
Couldn’t hold back this train
if I wanted to
This moment has come
bearing down upon me
disguised as a trap trick lockdown
situation but I can’t hold the conversation back
can’t unsee or not know now
even at the threat of being misunderstood
Bruised intimidated yet ready to
bear the brunt of nonconformity
Tag I’m it made vulnerable
Called out neck out stretched to my limits
throat chakra choking on quiet
welled up to my neck I can’t not
no longer keep silent
Hell, Emended 21c.
Tommy Gilboy
Untitled
Joshua Abush
Perspective Perception Shift: Tale of the Not Brown Hijab
Sana Fayyaz
Upon entering a Zoom call with my wild women friends, Helena complimented me on my hijab, “I love the silver hijab you have on.”
“Thanks, but it’s brown,” I let Helena know.
“Really?” Helena was surprised.
We had a conversation on how the hijab looked on the silver and grey side. I thought I knew what color hijab I was wearing. After all, I had only bought it because of its brown shade.
I was reminded of numerous rebuttals I have with my husband, Shakil, over the color turquoise. We argue over whether it’s blue or green. Of course, I’m always right. How can I not be?
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Searching for Silence
Renée Fishman
Nature’s Rite of Passage
Zigalet
Conveniently Biased
Manu Satsangi