by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Mum said she was Having A Moment when she gathered up the tablecloth after lunch and opened the window to shake out the crumbs. Instead she threw all the cutlery from her other hand in a jangling heap into the flower bed outside. What an unexpected treat for the...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Note: Puget Sound is a large estuary in Washington state, USA * Lisa Roullard resides in Salt Lake City, Utah, where she enjoys a view of the Wasatch Mountains on her neighbourhood walks. Her poetry has appeared in magazines in more than 25 U.S. states...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
For hours I crouched on a steep, craggy cliff, binoculars poised and legs getting stiff, up to my eyes in gorse, grass and heather, ignoring the rain and windy Welsh weather. I was looking for a puffin, such a comical bird. It’s a good place to spot them – or so I...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
There’s a chicken at my door that I’m trying to ignore. She can SEE that I am napping but that chicken keeps on tapping. Now the cockerel’s at it, too, with his cock-a-doodle-do. And I know I’m looking surly, but it really IS quite early! And look, here comes the cat....
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Snaggled between pavement cracks, you’re dentes de leon, toothed lion, tarakhshaqūn, bitter-leaf herb, until the ragged petals shake loose, become the dazzling yellow of a sun, if the sun was a flower. Each flower of yours is one hundred flowers, strung on fields of...
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