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...
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
I have found salty Medusa locks laid to dry. I have found a colony of sea-tempered stones, a mermaid’s purse and a cuttlefish bone. I have found jellyfish big as size twelve boots, battle-weary barnacles, keyhole limpets and stillborn crabs, pale as blackthorn bloom....
by Rachel Piercey | Dec 29, 2025 | Issue 10 poems
In the early morning rain, birds materialise from a blanket of fog like a magician’s trick. Grey shapes fly closer, red, yellow, and blue shimmer, sparkle, burst into the sunlight like tiny fireworks, become bright cardinals, tiny goldfinches, bold blue jays, before...
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