At the Tarn
No halter. No brand. The white horse stood where peat had given way to open water, its fetlocks clean. My brother brought
The Lore Lorn archive
Poetry
Poem of the Week: The Witch’s Bargain
She didn’t want your name. She wanted the heat in your chest, the one that burns when you lie to your
The Sun Who Hid
When that the world was young and gods still walked among the rice and silkworms, freely talked, there reigned a goddess bright
Why We Can’t See in the Dark
Once our eyes were wide as owl-eyes, sharp as any prowling fowl-eyes, seeing clean through pitch and shadow, no torch
Chang'e, Weighing the Vial
Hou Yi hid it under the bed, wrapped in cloth, further back than a wife should reach. I raced ahead of the
A Washer at the Ford
My aunt said never stop if you hear washing at night. Not singing. Washing. She was particular about that. There’s a