So remind me: 
how did the companionable silence 
flow between us? Describe,
if you can, the way the current 
burnished the sharp rocks, settled 
the roiling sediment 
onto the stream bed. That gentleness 
escapes me.
So many things written down
never happened, so many tides never turned 
to wash away words 
scratched in sand
and memory.
 

Jeannie Prinsen lives with her husband, daughter, and son in Kingston, Ontario, where she teaches an online course in essay writing at Queen’s University. Her writing has appeared in Reckon Review, Relief, Juniper Poetry, and elsewhere. 

7am. Summer.

Wooden windows hold
negotiations with the
creeping swarm of sunshine:

We'll show you where
all the gaps and splits are.

We'll tell you all about
the carelessly drawn curtains.

But promise us this -

once you're done carving
flaming beams of 
dust inside

you'll rush to the orchard
and talk to the mangoes.

Still raw.
Still green.

Shakti Swarup Sahu is a Co-Founder of Floating Canvas Company, an art platform based in India that is working towards making art more accessible. He currently divides his time between Mumbai and Bhubaneswar, his home town. You can find him on Twitter @thatshakti.

Eye level with the world, 
we drink gold with the hills 
in the morning too. 

Something must aggravate our 
urge to sneeze
and the memories of a season 
the same colour, 
or one that we hope is about to be —

Being on the edge of something so embodying, 
whether waiting or longing, 
is a swell rolling perpetually.

We gather speed. It seems like nothing
will gather us. 

Other mornings 
I don’t wake 
with an ocean inside of me at all —

Sophie Rae-Jordan lives in Pōneke, Aotearoa. She has been interested in writing since she was a young girl and likes the way that it can make her feel both big and small at the same time. Her poetry has been exhibited at Thistle Hall and published by Salty Magazine, Poetry New Zealand, and Mayhem Literary Journal. You can find her on instagram @thatislandwillnotbeperfect.