Photo by Ritu Manoj Jethani / Shutterstock.com There is no love for the lanternfly. The profligate planthopper, the habitual hitchhiker, who arrived, unbidden, from across the tempest-tost sea. A shipping container stowaway, the color of a dirty old newspaper. The...
After “Dear Arecelus” by Patrick Royal I wish I had thought of stealing literary fruitfrom dead writers’ houses, like plums, and slurpingat its meat and sweetness to expose their pits;instead, I spend an hour at Carousel Barin New Orleans nursing one glasswith ghosts...
The sun sets over an endless sea, flashing a mysterious green, while a purple squall stomps on the horizon. I stand in the middle of a sandy island the size of a graveyard, and just as flat. This is exactly what I want after the last ten months—time alone on a...
Photo by dcwcreations / shutterstock Ice Age Trail: Cedar Lake Segment, August Alongside the traffic-hum,two fawns eat from the farmhouse garden,with its budding six-tree apple orchard. The smaller one with brighterspots steps forward, wondering—what other tamed wild...
Photo: Richsoft / Shutterstock.com —a nocturne The clouds move quietly like monks,& a lance of light pierces through themlike stick through suya. Everything is cold even the insides of my mouth. Icelebrate the moss & mosquitoes,each with a separate duty. The...
I arrived in Antakya with my partner during Türkiye’s kurban bayramı, a week in the thick of summer that everyone takes off to celebrate Eid al-Adha. The city was sleepy and quiet, with heat rising up from the cobblestone streets. After a twelve-hour night bus from...
