Too Many Bottles, by Jacqueline Shirtliff

Too many bottles, said Dolphin. Too many bags, said Whale. Too many wrappers, said Great White Shark. Too many straws, said Snail. Too many flip-flops, said Turtle. Too many cups, said Seal. Too many brushes, said Manta Ray. Too many tops, said Eel. Too many lighters,...

The –––– saurus, by Mark Granier

I am the one whose bones they haven’t dug, part of an unseen clock keeping the Earth’s deep time, in silence, snug, folded into blankets of rock. I am the one whose booming roar was loud as a forest thick with rooks when the trees rouse them into a storm cloud...

Who? by Annie Fisher

Who has one foot, but no shoe; is all goo? Who shimmies down round your feet; shines like a sucked sweet? Who leaves a silvery signature trail; is a sort of a snail? Who lays five hundred eggs every year; is the visitor gardeners fear? Who will consume every...

Blueberries, by Jérôme Luc Martin

Start small, if you begin at all. Blue whales begin as blueberries. The redwood trees that grow so tall start small. If you begin at all, remember that – before they squall – the snowy blizzards start as flurries. So, start small when you begin it all. Blue whales...