Dandelion, by Gita Ralleigh

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...

Fog Magic, by Cindy Faughnan

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...