Scratch

The hollow bones of birds give them their flight, or else flight puts space inside the bird. All marrow occupies a convoluted space. A feather zips, a talon is at a distance from its motive meat. The tether of a wing is naked.
Seahorse

Geode

Strands hold together. Bulbs extend themselves out of sight. Small cysts of light clatter into cracks both sensed and imagined.
Seedman

Futuretone

The wind might carry a poisonous pigment to you. You might know it by a color which could have no other purpose but color. Therefore do not eat it. The wind might take leaves from you, sending them on where you refuse to go. Perhaps a nanocyte will make a hard drive of your trillionth cell, and you will have to decide if you are dust, or if you are light.
Taken

Inflection

It could be poetry, it could be location. It could be the lotus nibbled by a hungry predator. In the press to illuminate, the past spans as a stretched glove. Writings in temples take the temples with them. So we say, the temple is of the writer.
International

Hipbone

Absence breeds, and presence resounds. Dissolution is eventual. Hard to miss the bullseye of peace when you see it. There are materials after materials after materials . . . Where is today's question? On Okinawa, sand is shaped by the water and by the wind. In here the space is limited.
Ludi

Uta Barth

Are there silences without plinths in vision? Or is vision a custom of reflection, one part plight, one part adoration of reception?
Adore

Yesterday's Imp

Just find the inconsistency in the monster to denude him. Could your picture be so bold? So spare? So damned, charmed, and feathered like a flicker, sudden sun under the wing as you look up.
How to Paint

Veritas Ver(s)

How do you pronounce it? Does it hum like a rubbed fiddle? Trickle like a brook? No "brooks" in the West, hence no brook trout. The Continent Divides here.

Currently the icicles run to the sidelike, pointing the way to run. Go underground, my chicks! in the sense of surround yourself with earth.
Babelfish

Are you underhanded?

Is there a template for action? Are you underhanded enough for this? It could be the mirror of winter left out to compost in spring. I knew, once, a peat from which sprung the very thing in bloom that shadows vesicles in flight. It was a small thing, turned and clever, winking at a stone that wasn't there.
Slow Food