by Morgan Eklund
By 2050, plastic will outweigh
fish in the ocean and every Monday Continue reading
by Morgan Eklund
By 2050, plastic will outweigh
fish in the ocean and every Monday Continue reading
by Lucas Smith
On our last day of volunteering
There were leopard sharks
In the shallows breeding.
Hundreds of sharks
Swarming like milk in coffee.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Reynard Laverna
The wave crests, a great sunbeam descends and cuts the water in two and the waves drift separately, before thudding against the breakers and launching a light mist over me. The sun finishes its descent and its final rays hold the mist upwards and spread a glittering across the horizon, then drop the chilled water across my body. The dark starts with this film of cold, settling onto my bare arms and seeping through my shirt. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Gail Tirone
A crowd formed on the beach
awed and aghast
as the gray mass surfaced
battered by wave after wave
until the surf with a grotesque belch
heaved it onto the shore Continue reading
by Carol Hamilton
On the shore of sky
I stand and think Continue reading
Filed under Poetry