by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Mom can never be surprised. She is immune. She is always prepared. She always knows when anyone gifts her anything. “That is a dry fruit box inside. That is a sweet box.” “That is a sari. That is a diary for the New Year.” “That is a book. This is a clock. This will...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
If you let that cat out of the bag, it’ll take everyone by surprise! Like a bolt out of the blue or a bombshell dropped! It’ll knock their socks off, make them jump out of their skin, stop them dead in their tracks, have them on the edge of their seats. With eyes like...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
Last week, my brother was out on our street, holding a treat he was planning to eat: a lip-smacking, cream-bursting chocolate éclair which, despite all my pleas, he had no plans to share. He opened his mouth, he was all set to chomp, when who should arrive in a...
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...
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