Where is Your Wild – Tiny Seed Literary Journal

Summer Retreat

15 Nov 202015 Nov 2020

During that slow hour after noontime, I abandon sewing lavender scent bags and walk toward Cathkin Braes, hoping to spy you. From the garden greenhouse you amble towards me, increasing…

Nature Flash Fiction…

I Think of Night

15 Nov 20209 Nov 2020

Here comes a woman, her legs like lamp-posts and her teeth bared. We feel bad for whatever we’ve done, we’re in trouble now. She’s got the look of a…

The Wind Asks the Last Leaf of Autumn Why It Stays on the Tree

15 Nov 202013 Nov 2020

Poem by anne richardson anne richardson is a chaplain, spiritual companion, and labyrinth facilitator and believes everyone’s story is sacred. She finds her poetic voice in listening to trees,…

Urban Fox

14 Nov 202013 Nov 2020

By Alison Lock Alison Lock is the author of two short story collections, four collections of poetry, and a novella, as well as a contributor to several anthologies. Her writing…

Where is Your Wild

On One Branch

14 Nov 202013 Nov 2020

Remember that on one branch there is bud and lichen and moss and bark and insect and dew and sun and breath and bird poop and squirrel fur and the…

Nature Poetry…

topography, you

14 Nov 20209 Nov 2020

for Wick my head lies in the soft soil of your skin, the canopies of our leg hair forestry sway as our knees rub together like kindling you call…

Nature Photography…

Butterfly Weed

14 Nov 202023 Nov 2020

The caterpillar weaving its cocoon doesn't expect to emerge a butterfly. Nor does the seed asleep in the earth expect to beget a bouquet of blossoms. Yet here they…

Nature Photography…

Eternal Web

13 Nov 20209 Nov 2020

Through the misty and gloomy mornings, where the dew shines on the eternal Web, fragile, sticky and thin, but turning stronger as within. Growing wiser as days passing by,…

Where is Your Wild

Bird Intrigue

13 Nov 20209 Nov 2020

After my burgundy and yellow zinnias burst into bloom, goldfinches grasp stems to pluck petals, one by one, "she loves me, she loves me not." When I spy the marauders…

Wraparound

12 Nov 202011 Nov 2020

I want a wraparound porch and a wraparound man and for trust to wrap around us while we love each other as best we can. And I also want a…

Oceans Rising

12 Nov 20202 Nov 2020

The cars sped by at eighty where the surfers Entered the water, paddling out between cars. No driving home on this day. Another wave swamped Route 1. I cut over…

3 Broadsides

11 Nov 202011 Nov 2020

By Margaret McCarthy Margaret McCarthy brings the eye of a poet to her photography, exploring archetypes of myth and dream in her imagery. Exhibitions include: the Fogg Art Museum, The…

Where is Your Wild

On Belonging

11 Nov 202010 Nov 2020

Dear Kimmy, Know this: You will never fit in. Take heart: This is good. Let me explain. You will grow up, youngest of three, the only girl, an oddball, left-handed.…

The Peach

10 Nov 20202 Nov 2020

I fell from the branch this morning landing with a thud on the sunny unkempt lawn bruised nectar slowly trickling out from a small tear in my skin birds diving…

Nature Poetry…

Garden

10 Nov 20204 Nov 2020

He will not let her into the yard so she finds a knothole in the fence, a brown-edged telescope, peers inside: Love-Lies-Bleeding from its flocked, feathery fingers, its red…

Twilight at Point Fermin

9 Nov 20204 Nov 2020

The family picnic breaks the way most do deciding what to bring or gather and drop in waste bins, things skipping away too fast to stop or recover, plaid…

Tree is Me

8 Nov 20208 Nov 2020

The squirrels claw and climb the maple. I rarely spot one in the madrone. The maple provides them with many seeds, broad leaves to linger under, trunks and branches whose…

Where is Your Wild

Morning Stroll

8 Nov 20205 Nov 2020

Green eyes witness bountiful beauties— Untrimmed blades of grass that glow yellow in morning sunlight, shimmering cool dewdrops in the colder morning air, which cradles the baby-blue horizon, wavering with…

Where is Your Wild

A Poem About Love (Not A Love Poem)

7 Nov 20205 Nov 2020

The best way to hold on to something is to pay no attention to it. The things you love too much perish. Dmitri Shostakovich Around here, I never know how…

Nature Poetry…

Working-Class Bird

7 Nov 20204 Nov 2020

The chickadee peeks From underneath his low little cap Tucks in his chin; Tutting at the cracks in the sidewalk He trips along And wonders how He ended up…

Blue Heron

6 Nov 20204 Nov 2020

1. It’s your shadow I seek cool mystery. 2. I stood once, in a natural history museum under a California Condor, stuffed, exhibited, a cautionary note as eggs somewhere nearby…