To read the latest issue, click 'Issues by year' in the menu above

A Barred Owl is streaked with lines
that camouflage its breast in pines;
it’s different lines a Bard combines.

Winter broadcasts of “Woo woo”
announce this bird is looking to
locate a mate. “Boohoo, I’m blue,”

it moans in dreaded dry spells when
it fears it will not rhyme again.
“You too?” It queries now and then

amid the gathered company
of other Bards. These birds agree
it’s tough to air good poetry.