The phone rings. Would I like to help him move out next Saturday evening at eleven p.m.? A bit overwhelmed by his question, I do not answer ...

. . family reunion pies lined up on the counter to cool I’ve spent half my life trying to explain buttermilk pie to those who haven’t had th...

With her pillow and blanket she settles to sleep on her bedroom floor. Later as I am heading off to bed, she is sleeping in her doorway, kne...

nightdress . . . slipping into my dreams inside out My brother has a house bus. Each summer he travels around the country working in orchard...

. The Year of the Rat begins with severe winter storms pushing far into the south of China. In the middle of the night there’s a tremendous ...

The heady smells of leaf-slime and wet bark have returned. While walking along the woods outside the neighborhood (and with no particular de...

Notes of a piano piece by Faure wind a trail along overgrown pathways, through the french doors with their wood-framed windows, into the pos...

. Having company is a kind of travel. A friend from Japan is visiting. Tonight we plan to go down to the Ping River for the Loi Kratong fest...

. The Canadian poets have arrived at the motel. They've been invited for a pot luck lunch to meet several New Zealand haiku poets. decor...

. For several days a kudzu shoot has been climbing the young pine. Its Archimedean spiral floats tentatively around the tree as if following...

The car stops so I can get out. Crossing the black belt of highway that girdles these moors, I step onto the bog, whose thick moss pelt give...

I hesitate. Stepping sideways through the unfamiliar door, I shuffle between sagging, purpose-built shelves, moving slowly to give my eyes ...

I had a summer job at the psych lab, feeding white rats and cleaning cages, and managed to find a place in the most desirable student reside...

The fuschia and lavender facades of the Victorian B & Bs stare out across Beach Avenue, porches salt grizzled and blown with snow. From ...

Rising eight hundred feet from the sheep-scattered pastures, oak, ash and birch, how skeletal and delicate they look, under rolling clouds, ...

It should have been a grey wintry day of low clouds, a time for comfort in mohair jackets and the smell of wood fires … if it had to be a da...

Four Tellings: A Trans-Tasman Haibun-Renga by Owen Bullock, Joanna Preston, Jeffrey Harpeng and Beverley George. Post Pressed, Queensland, ...

the smooth white belly of a washed-up shark exposed and torn the light of this day peels back and ebbs away with the tide the very rocks tha...

Click of the Box Brownie. In the photo I clutch Mum with one hand; my other holds a toy dog on wheels. . As if it were yesterday, I see Dad ...

a moon even in shadow her wet eyes Grey and more Drizzle Clouds drift, pull lower over Meall Biorach Fall into heather at Doire Fhionn Locha...

I cross an arched bridge over a pond to reach Kurimoto Garden’s bell gazebo. It’s there I’ll escape the hot sun and the noisy crowd. Sitting...

The excitement of sitting under the desks has begun to wane. "Quit shoving," someone complains. Muffled giggles. "Can I get a...

Every season my father changes the color of mom’s place mat, but our monthly dinners are always the same. We sit in the kitchen not far from...

this is my new beautiful neighbourhood hilly with roads that follow the contour of the land that climb descend and scramble down to the wate...

The recipe, Ida says, goes like this: You first talk to the goats and pat their udders coaxing out flavors only goats know about. And you mu...