OUR CATEGORY : John Donlan

Four Otters

Four otters forage together the length of Lily Pond, spines pouring under then heads-up, jaws shearing and crushing frogs, minnows, pollywogs, crayfish, diving again. They call to each other as I watch them out of sight in a blur of flowers. I think of them crossing the lane for the next pond, the neighbour’s land, […]

Mink

for Philip Larkin A mink, jittery, neckless, serpentine, ransacks the shore three times an hour. A flash, frog-belly white – devoured. “Your blood is yours, your blood is mine.” Mucky scurf, planetary skin born of accident, rock and air and light, we feed each other and delight in the wet machine that makes us kin, […]