Monthly Archives: January 2015

Untitled, by Laurie Boris (posted with permission)


He was the only one left of his kind, and the sadness of that knowledge bent his bones. Each season, when the sun heated his branches and unfurled his leaves, he dared to hope that a sprout would crack the earth, another like him. Some had tried. One brave sapling pushed its fresh shoots to the light. But, starved for nutrients, it only shriveled back into the ground, wasted. Again, this happened, and again. Until finally he realized: Thick and ravenous, his own roots were choking the new ones, and while he existed he would always be alone.

Image credit: hotblack, via (used under license)

Alone, by Aaron Speca (posted with permission)



Summer is my day, winter is my night
My days have been countless
The seeds form on my branches
And I nurture them, protecting them but …
Eventually they all fall
Some leap off before they are ready
Some are torn away by a harsh maelstrom
But the rest I have to shake off myself
They all vanish into the tall weeds
And I must wait until tomorrow
To see if any of them re-emerge
So I will no longer be




Image credit: Lone Tree: hotblack at (used under license)


door in the tree

“I don’t hear you!!” Few beings in the universe can stamp their feet quite as loudly a 6-year-old girl, especially the 6-going-on-106 sort. Fewer being still can see the hidden beckon embraced within a tree. Ellianne had. A week, now. Every day, as day greeted evening, she passed by, swinging the stick-prod for the slower cows. Today, she defied the door, emboldened by defying her father. Today, she wouldn’t listen to the songs. Today she struck the warm ivy cloak. Today, knobby hands snatched her through. The door smacked its lips and disappeared.

Image credit: Door in Tree: JB Banks. (used under CC license)

Lone Tree


If all within the forest stands
A tree that prays alone
Who, hearing it in distant lands,
Can say which seeds that sown
By flowering branch or bursting cones
Are borne by praying tree
And which the towering forest owns
That never bent the knee?
The fir that lone and solemn prays
Its god will surely hear
For no mumbled muttering lays,
Words uttered by no seer,
Impede the flow of heaven-bound prayer
Sent up by one alone
Who, still and genuflecting there,
Does not its fate bemoan.

Image credit: hotblack, via morguefile, used under license

Faerie, by Rebecca Poole (posted with permission)

door in the tree

To reach the land of Faerie 
One need not look in the circles of fungus
To see the fairies dance and sing
One need not wait for a day in spring
To find the fairest folk one only needs a
Tree with a path leaving the mundane world
Of iron and steel

Rebecca’s author website:

Rebecca is also an astounding artist, and her work may be found at


Image credit: Door in Tree: JB Banks. (used under CC license).