Chris Bullard

Advice for a Hermit

Building your dwelling
on a remote mountaintop
won’t mean that you’ll live
any closer to the stars
or more distant from this world.

Chris Bullard’s work has appeared in recent issues of Nimrod, Muse/A Journal, The Woven Tale, Red Coyote, Cutthroat and The Offbeat.


J.I. Kleinberg


Quick as a coin toss
the decision to lie —

to make myself into
a ribbon of scarves

silken and body-warm
in the sleeve — rabbit

impossibly soft — top hat
full of surprises —

magician — mouth swarming
with honey — with hornets.

Artist, poet, and freelance writer J.I. Kleinberg lives in Bellingham, Washington, and posts most days at and


J.I. Kleinberg


The song is no more than a diagram
of longing plucked from the air,
wings stilled against a shuddering
heart, beak clutched around a final
note, perhaps one of arrival, hope,
love, a promise, or a warble of loss,
twig dropped, nest unfinished, egg
uncertain as tomorrow.

Artist, poet, and freelance writer J.I. Kleinberg lives in Bellingham, Washington, and posts most days at and


Lynn Finger


if I don’t cross

the days off
on the calendar, they


a bright chain
of pink daisy coral

coins reeling
into the high tide.

Lynn Finger’s poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in the Journal of Compressed Arts and Ekphrastic Review, and she is part of a group that mentors writers in prison.


Tim Hawkins


We stand by the rail in the cool night air,
her shoulders moonlight pale
and smooth as stone,
the offer of my jacket too late
to avoid the oncoming shrug.

Tim Hawkins sometimes eats his beans with the patience of a saint.


Temidayo Jacob


In my dictionary,
depression as a verb
means, to put on your
Christmas dress
and feel like
you’re dressed for war.

Temidayo Jacob, a widely published Sociologist-Poet in Nigeria and the author of Beauty Of Ashes, can be found on Twitter @BoyUntouched.


John Hawkhead

Is it possible

to remember a shadow
that was never cast,
to celebrate the life
of a never born child
who did not stand here
in the full gaze of sunlight
but still leaves a shadow
that falls from the past
in the drifting darkness
of yesterday’s ash?

John Hawkhead is a writer from the South West of England whose work has been published all over the world. His book Small Shadows is from Alba Press