TINY SEED LITERARY JOURNAL

Survivor Smoldering air presses on my shoulders Smoke lingers, lungs labor Eyes water, I stumble among Charred remains of broadleaf forest Snap, crack, vibrations radiate up my legs I lament…

If I Could know each thing, the inside of it, what name each thing desires, why trees give forests soft floors, by what means mycelia—pale filaments of life tunneling in…

It is your looking into my face ... That calms my spirits; is it your grace? How does your eye upon your leaf, Instill in me that sense of relief?…

Sylvan Bliss Passage to a primeval reality Offering freshen and vitality To the world worn mind Wisdom and balm to those inclined Rambling in the kingdom sylvan Freedom and connections…

Eyes, brain, nerves, frazzled from staring at black squares on a blue flickering screen for the past 9 months. Barren. The forest, not far, calls to me: Come. Bathe in…

My initials, name, and payment prove I own it, this steep hill thick with laurel, pine, and logs. Covenants say I may float a dock, let it stretch in murky,…

Someday I hope to be as soft and silent as this sleeping owl on its red branch. My dreams of sharp nights and claws surrounded by green leaves. Poem and…

We had come by the boxwood too often in November for me to think it was coincidence, my father’s reluctance to move forward on the trail and eagerness to stand…

  Poem by Marianne Mersereau. Marianne Mersereau is a poet, mystic and tree-hugger who grew up in the forested hills of Appalachia. She currently resides among the mist-covered evergreens of…

On this day you are one and the same that poet who won’t change his life and thinks he can change another’s who grinds away at the trunk of a…

Evening comes with chattering squirrels, a cardinal turned black at dusk, his voice a sharp crimson note in my dim forest. Foraging armadillos are abroad in leaf litter. Snuffling. High-pitched…

Balsam firs tower above. Shaded below, the stream pours over boulders, rocks, downed logs and pebbles. My poor toes—wading barefoot, gingerly, cringing, ouch! oooh! ow! I wish for the callused…

So far, we have only theories for why some dead, paper-thin leaves cling to branches long after all their chlorophyll is gone Pale and dry as old coffee filters I…

Poem by Duane L. Herrmann Duane L. Herrmann, internationally published, award-winning poet and historian, has seven collections of poetry and a sci fi novel: Escape from Earth. His poetry has…

In the soft light of the winter start, down the frost covered and weary trail, my eyes glimpse striking shadows and forms, with final autumn breathes they stretch, tall and…

On Storied Wood -for Ivy Shuman I never knew that every tree holds the fire of its dying that it lifts its leaves its branches like arms and hands in…

Goodwife’s Prayer, Autumn 1653 Do I call after you, Lord, through the dark hallways of leaves, this black forest, in air so full and heavy it pulls against one’s journey?…

EXPLORERS CIRCA 1982 You have little memory of that year, our last under the same roof. We lived near the wild– a creek streaming through, tributary of the Mascoma River.…

HONEY LOCUST subdued splendor of the evening gardens green silk of dew-lit grasses cicadas in the leaves of night the sky unfolding its skein of stars Previously published in Earthtones…

Subterranean Wonder A fungus that we see is generally the fruiting body of a much more expansive organism, its thread-like mycelium extending across up to thousands of acres underground, potentially…

KAISER RIDGE Paiute legend describes The wooded mountain-range And stone peaks As a reclining woman From whose breasts Issue forth life-giving forces In streams and tributaries. Old Placer-miners spoke Of…

Ash Keys Don’t mistake the Ash With his hundreds of dense bunches Of single-winged rusty-brown keys Rattling in the sideways rain For a medieval jailer Holding keys to Life draining…

forest bathing gnarled roots anchor heaven bound towering trees ancient souls where creatures dwell singing serene euphonies rough brown bark worn with age furrowed and scarred softly kissed by plump…

High Forest Perch We paddle toward Buzzard Island so densely forested with bright red bottlebrush, fan palms, and cedars under a bright blue Florida sky, and high atop a stark…