The Patrescene
We crawled naked from the caves, staggered in from the hunts, to find someone had planted a seed. Our hands, stained with charcoal, ocher. Bodies spent, but swirling with beasts we’d Continue reading
America's Finest Environmental Magazine
We crawled naked from the caves, staggered in from the hunts, to find someone had planted a seed. Our hands, stained with charcoal, ocher. Bodies spent, but swirling with beasts we’d Continue reading
There was always a period of grief after harvesting the fields—when, after so many days of the combine coming through for the corn, the specks of husk shining in the long rays Continue reading