The Year the Sky Turned Orange by Valerie Speedwell
“The Year the Sky Turned Orange” by Valerie Speedwell it was the year the sky turned orange the Great Die Off, 12 billion trees ablaze the year rivers and lakes dried up and catastrophe wasn’t big enough a word to describe what was happening when the freshly dead piled up faster than could be buried or burned and the word rapture had no joy in it, only pestilence it was the year of vanished streets...
Model for a Gazebo from “The Timing of Birds” by Eleftheria Lialios
“Model for a Gazebo from ‘The Timing of Birds'” by Eleftheria Lialios Art has the power to contribute to our overall well being. It can inform and guide everything in our life. In the visual arts, it makes connections through our visual cortex, bringing up past associative memories stored in our brain. It can help direct the future, or simply point to life forms living with us, reminding us of...
Some Rough in the Hand, Some Smooth by Marge Piercy
“Some Rough in the Hand, Some Smooth” by Marge Piercy On the sill of the window beside my desk, a row of stones sits, collected on travels. Like builders of stone circles – some grand like Avebury or Stonehenge most small, just the local rocks that could be easily moved into place, but special in their way— I find some stones liminal, giving off power like radiation. Some from famous sites –the Akropolis— or...
The Laughing Place by Tara L. Masih
“The Laughing Place” by Tara L. Masih You need a place like this to go to, I tell her, like my sister and I had when we were young. It’s called the Laughing Place. You cannot be in that place without laughing. No matter what is going on in your world, in that space, only laughter is allowed. You start in the spring, sowing morning glory seeds in a circle around the sticks you’ve erected to form a teepee. Part...
Black Cat in a Field By Beverly Lafontaine
“Black Cat in a Field” by Beverly Lafontaine If you see a black cat in a field, stop, let the world go by while you and the black cat explore the field. Smell the morning air, suburb air, full of traces of gasoline, burned wood, diesel, dog shit and the raw remnants of wandering skunk. Smell it, inhabit it. Know that you are alive. Know that you, the cat and a dozen mice occupy this field, where the long...
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the conch Mar 27, 2026 -
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