Historic clothing created and modeled by Seamstress of Rohan. Photography by Helena Aguilar Mayans. Take a spoon, silver’s best, but any spoon Will do, so long as it is old. It should Be held in the left hand. Take it now, room To room...
Photography by Courtney Fox   What sweeter balm than nature to soothe the lonely soul? In this poem, Wordsworth gives his readers a Romantic description of nature’s beauty through the point of view of a “lonely cloud.” I know that in...
She had eyes like apple seeds. A small, angular face that reminded me of a fox’s mask. Was it a mask she wore the whole time I was with her? The thing about faeries is, they’re not like us, material. Indeed, they most resemble assemblages...
© Julia Jeffrey

The Seal Wife

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Illustration by Julia Jeffrey of Stonemaiden Art Sometimes when we fight, I want to slip on my seal skin and disappear beneath the waves. I warned you when we married there are only so many times I can drink my own tears before the ocean comes...

Girl With Cloven Feet

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Article taken from Issue #36 || Autumn 2016 Print || Digital A hunger for green things| starts in the toes, lingers at the hedges on deersoft steps. She waits for nightcover to track past clover and henbit, to garden lettuces and parsley and strips them down to topsoil. The hunger for...
O silent wood, I enter thee With a heart so full of misery For all the voices from the trees And the ferns that cling about my knees. In thy darkest shadow let me sit When the grey owls about thee flit; There will I...

Simbelmynë

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Photography by Paul Barson Even here the glimmering simbelmynë grows in the ghostly pale green meads and haunted hollows far from the hallows somber in their ordered rows where our old bones the cold earth slowly swallows. Of certainty indeed no living person knows and...

Snow Angel

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Illustration by Marina Mika We know you only by your absence. The hole left behind, pressed through the drifts like something fallen from a great distance. Wings shorter than we would have expected, stumpy and round as a sliced orange peel and your body a footless...
Photography by MICHAELA DURISOVA The root queen knows your secret hopes. The root queen knows your heart The root queen’s crown is thorn and branch; her garden, silver bones, where acorn-seeds dream of oak-leaves, and shadows speak of bright. Have you seen the root queen there, combing...
Painting by Anne Bachelier Your once-silken voice will desert you, your legs will make every step on land a torture. There will come a time when you miss the seaweed and seals, your old ways, your old body. Now fit for neither land nor sea,...