Purifying Wind

What an honor to have my lyric essay "No Place Like It" included in this new anthology published by Moon Shadow Sanctuary Press. Many thanks to editor d. ellis phelps!

You can order a copy by clicking here.

Dusk - Lyric Prose by Marie S. Bates

Photo courtesy of Marie S. Bates.* 

All quarantines are not created equally.

It's one thing to be sheltering in place in the U.S. in my comfortable middle class home and quite another to be in lockdown in Valencia, Spain in an apartment with a small balcony.

Thank you to Marie Bates for sharing her experience with us in this ultimately hopeful piece.





Dusk
by Marie S. Bates

  

On Tuesday evening, - Earth Day eve - I found myself dreaming of long walks in mossy forests, smelling wet soil, of standing beneath towering pines, and passing sparkling green ferns trembling under the weight of a recent rain shower. As I perched on an air conditioning fan box taking up half the standing room on our tiny balcony, I felt about as disconnected from anything Earth-y as one can. I stared out at the concrete apartment walls on each corner of our intersection and thought about the separate lives unfolding in those cubes stacked on top of one another. They remind me of the cardboard dioramas many of us made with our kids; a different scene arranged carefully with Elmer’s glue in each shoe box. An ant farm also comes to mind, its many chambers sandwiched between plastic walls, a transparent community for us all to goggle. Or they can also look like the stratified layers beneath the Earth’s surface, each layer comprised of something different but stuck together to function as a whole. It’s amazing what pops into your head when your life hits the pause button. I sighed deeply and tilted my head up to scan the cerulean sky at dusk. What a beautiful, clear evening. That’s when I saw the bats. BATS! I thought maybe they were swallows going in to roost or pigeons, but these were tiny and I heard them calling out to find their way as they searched for food. Swooping and flittering like tiny pieces of tumbling black paper on the breeze, they darted through the air, solo and in pairs. I heard their squeaks echoing and bouncing off the walls and over rooftops. Two of them dove so closely over my head I nearly ducked. It was surreal, and I loved every magical second. It gave me hope to see this evidence that our planet still has its wild places among us. I got lost in the moment and couldn’t say how long this went on but it was over much too soon. It was exhilarating to watch and part of me wanted to be up there with them. The weather is very mild and the skies are clear tonight, perhaps I’ll get to see them again at dusk. I’ll be looking up.

Photo courtesy of Marie S. Bates.

                              

  

*About the top photograph, Marie says, "There's a police helicopter flying over the rooftops. And that tower (Torres de Quart) at the end of the street was built in the 15th century. The pock marks were from cannon fire sustained in 1801 during the Napoleonic wars."

           

A New Anthology from Sonic Boom!

Thank you to Shloka Shankar, editor of Sonic Boom, for including my flash story "Hunter's Moon" in What I Hear When Not Listening: Best of the Poetry Shack and Fiction.

Here's a description of the book:

"Curated from Sonic Boom issues one through fifteen, this collection brings together the best pieces that were published under The Poetry Shack and Fiction sections of the journal. Embark on a journey that explores selfhood, love, and our shifting place in the world."

To order a copy, click here.