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Articles by Sharon Tracey
Shapeshifting in Topanga Canyon
—Topanga: where the mountain meets the sea The Tongva Coyote’s call cuts the wind and wakes me, the summer moon full, the canyon rimmed midnight blue as if all water and light, my dream following the path of the day’s news— the thin white beluga whale who swam a southern path from arctic waters and found himself in France along the Seine. They tried to feed him dead herring and live trout.
One Poem by Annie Woodford
Quiet as It’s Kept after Toni Morrison Rising Fawn Off the interstate, light shines through the clean plate glass windows of a McDonald’s, where a whole soccer teams sits, profiles pure flame. The country slumbers, a majesty of plastic, Thursday evening traffic. (The commute, the commute and then to bed soon.) Ellijay, Blue Jay as Quiet Bird A child with a cauliflower ear tilts his head closer, listening to his iPad.
Four Poems by Katrinka Moore
Adagio even the things that are most “thinglike” are nothing more than long events – Carlo Rovelli These few acres once a homestead once ancient forest once scraped clear by ice- dragged stone Not being but becoming each boulder an adagio of dust A stand of second growth and waving fields of goldenrod cradle the little house nothing between us and wild yonder but a few sheltering gases The darkness out there not the emptiness we sense but an entity its own waving field Afternoon fades...
Two Poems by John Whalen
Grandfather Cuts Loose the Ponies Getting it finished in this lifetime is this magic quotient to me. I like that thought of completion. – David Govedare, sculptor When we travel west to Seattle, My wife and I stop At the overlook above the Columbia. On the way home We stop on the other side of the highway For the horses And get out of the car, wind or not, To climb loose gravel To the top of the bluff.
One Poem + Video by Jeffrey Harrison
Your browser does not support the video tag. Kripalu Meditation Garden During Covid June 2020 White pebbles unraked for who knows how long, and strewn with sticks from a recent storm— I was going to clear them off until I saw a small sign asking visitors to leave the garden as they found it. Even when it’s a mess? I pondered that like a Zen koan and decided yes.
Two Poems by Susan Kelly-DeWitt
Gravitational Tug What snakes out from the universe is real It’s the road we rake, the path that nabs us With its bloody thumb. The sun is our candle, True, and that night sky all too dark even with Those spangles and waves, with the hurtle of it Whipping around us. “I had nothing to do but walk Into nowhere,” O’Keeffe said. Some days it feels Entirely whole to me, others it’s all just spilled Powders mixed up, red troubles and abyss.
Announcing the 2021 Terrain.org Pushcart Prize Nominations
The editors of Terrain.org are pleased to announce our nominations for the 2021 Pushcart Prize: Best of the Small Presses series, the prize chosen by Pushcart Press that anthologizes the best of the small presses publishing this year.
The Enduring Mysteries of the Narwhal's Tusk
Narwhals, native to the high arctic, are popular but there is relatively little research about them due to their remote habitat and secretive ways. Their most distinctive features are the long “horns” that are believed to have given rise to the legends of unicorns, although the “horn” is actually a tooth (tusk) which erupts from the jaw. Despite the legends, the actual use of the tusk has been debated for more than a hundred years.
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