by Kyla Houbolt

Butterflies go still in flight.
Tying neat bows in the once alive air.

I never know what shape
the birds will draw
as they arc across the sky and you think
oh scribbles but what if
it’s a code, and the birds saying
if only there were more of us
we could complete the message
and open the stars.

And I could dance on this cupcake.
Let me just go down the mine
with sharpened feathers and diamond eyes.

There’s beautiful Sarah, immersed in her sea
of pain, not drowning, emerging for a day or so
to feel the sun and then again
pulled back under. Look
how white the cliffs are today how
they glow. Singing all the way.

Sarah, say the birds in their secret
language, we’re trying
to open the stars.
She is back down in her boiling
and does not hear.
I’m putting a knot in the universe
so I won’t lose my place
when I die.

Kyla Houbolt is a poet and gardener currently living in the Sierra Nevada Foothills. Her chapbook Tuned is available from CCCP Chapbooks. But Then I Thought is forthcoming later this year from Above/Ground Press. Surviving Death is forthcoming from Broken Spine, along with a re-release of her first chapbook, Dawn’s Fool, both expected in November. She is on Twitter @luaz_poet, and many individual pieces published digitally can be found on her Linktree.

by Corinna Board

After the shock of discovery,
I’m drawn to the body –

larger than life, broken –
a predator beaten at its own game.

I’ve never seen a buzzard
this close; its wings are splayed

like an angel; mackerel-striped
feathers intact, the rest is a mess

of plumes, dampened by blood
now rusted to a deeper hue.

The head is hidden under leaves,
only the hooked beak is visible;

clamped shut, useless.
I’m glad I can’t see its eyes.

Wood anemones have seeded
themselves around the dead

bird like a handful of stars,
as if the sky, too, has fallen.

Corinna Board teaches English as an additional language in Oxford. She grew up on a farm and her work is often inspired by nature and the rural environment. She has been published in Spelt, Anthropocene, The Alchemy Spoon and elsewhere. Her debut pamphlet is due this year. Find her on Twitter @CorinnaBoard or Instagram @parole_de_reveuse.

by Ray Ball

ˈdan-də-ˌlī-ən (noun) 1: a small, bright yellow flower that flourishes whether the environment is harsh or bountiful with seeds more tenacious than hope. Make a wish and blow them away, lighter than feathers dispersed by the slightest of breezes. 2: a noxious weed poisoned by suburban dwellers determined to control nature, conquer the outdoors. Mr. Capulet and Mr. Montague are out at dawn every summer Saturday with grudges, weedkiller, and lawnmowers. Mrs. Montague and Mrs. Capulet compete in the annual garden show, pack nutritious lunches their children don’t eat. 3: a flowering plant of the Asteraceae family. Sister of Daisy. Sibling of Sunflower. Daughter of the late Cretaceous period. Stamens and antlers joined. Copious producer of nectar. 4: Monks-head; Milk-witch; Faceclock. Friend and nurse-maid to the apothecary. If only Juliet would have taken such a tonic instead of that dulling draft.

ˈdan-də-ˌlī-ən (adj.) 1: a dramatic shade of yellow as in the color of teenage crushes written on cheeks. Leo as Romeo, yes. Claire as Juliet, even more yes. I was too afraid to tell my friend that she looked like Claire. Not as we wept. Not as we studied Shakespeare’s comedies, like As You Like It. Histrionic hue as in everything feeling so keen and sharp and jagged like the leaves the plant is named for: lion’s tooth. My heart had been wounded by the claws of a lion.

Ray Ball currently lives on the land of the Dena’ina, where she works as a history professor at the University of Alaska Anchorage. She is the author of the poetry collection Trinities (Louisiana Literature Press, 2023). Ray’s poems have appeared in numerous journals, including Free State Review, Glass, Orange Blossom Review, and Waccamaw. Ray has received multiple nominations for Pushcart and been a Best of the Net finalist. She is senior editor at Coffin Bell and assistant editor Juke Joint. You can find her on Instagram @runninghistory.

A poem in which I substitute teach at all the schools around me

by Kelli Lage

Students ask me about students in buildings
outside of their barn red bricked walls.
I say,
When we read, fireflies swarm fluorescents.
They know the glow and picture it in nameless irises.

When we write, we create strands of rivers and ink ordains hallways.
They’d never considered if water claims each palm with the same allure.

When we speak,
butterflies flood the room, squeezing through cracks,
decorating words, catching words.
Their eardrums rattle,
trying to hear rasps and ropes of voices they’ve never met.

When we listen, we catch sun songs knocking on sentient windows.
They wonder if our sun is up high enough to see all who live.

Kelli Lage is a poetry reader for Bracken Magazine and Best of the Net nominated poet. Her debut full-length poetry collection, Early Cuts, is forthcoming summer 2023 with Kelsay Books. Her poetry chapbook, I’m Glad We Did This, is forthcoming winter 2023 with Prolific Pulse Press. Lage’s work has appeared in Stanchion Zine, Maudlin House, The Lumiere Review, Welter Journal, and elsewhere. Her website is www.KelliLage.com. Kelli is on Twitter / Instagram @KelliLage  and Facebook @byKelliLage

by Mathew Yates

haven’t you seen the end times advancing?
there’s a storm on Venus, this can’t be good.

we are both so broken & so is the Moon,
to take the tide out without us in it.

have you seen your feed today? it’s so sad.
yeah, funny shit. oh, i’m almost done with this

season. just ignore what he says for now.
worry about shrinks & pills after you’re

insured. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. you
say you saw an article on how

depression is a thing with claws, you say
claws aren’t meant for the numb. haven’t you seen

the Sun unpossessing dusks & dawns?
haven’t you seen her floating off without us?

Mathew Yates (they/them) is a poet & artist from Paducah, Kentucky with roots in Mississippi & Appalachia. Their poetry & art can be found in Protean Mag, Screen Door Review, Malarkey Books, Barren Mag, & more. Matthew is on Twitter @m_yates and Etsy (www.etsy.com/shop/mathewyatesart).