in such orchards

micro magazine with poetry inspired by Hinterlands

golden shower blossoms make a river at my feet. august’s moody sky is balm and invitation. where do the souls of poets sleep? in such orchards i would live - my pockets filled with seeds, my sight ripening in the blessed light of these trees. Saraswati Nagpal

last week, India’s western ghats were luminous – the sweet green of soil responding to monsoon with unrestrained passion. driving through these hills, i held quietly the memories of the Bengaluru poetry festival, an orchard of 70 poets and artists reading and speaking to lovers of poetry. i’ve gathered many seeds from that weekend.

today’s mini mag, inspired by Hinterland, has poems of quiet reverence, the natural, the human, and the fantastical blending with grace, and paired with art by Annabelle Guetatra. Martha Coates’ poem, “You are bread” uses poignant metaphor to portray the complexity of existence. Laura Hemmington’s “Between the Grains” holds wistful images inducing a gentle journey. “The Wind Became Her” by Laurie Donaldson glides us into faraway places filled with old songs.

YOU ARE BREAD
Martha Coats

Derived from ancient grains
your delicate balance of essentials, 
when mixed with care,
patience,
and fire
bloomed to a complex crumb;
neither a leathery chew, exhausting 
to savor,
nor an unsubstantial bite,
collapsable, 
incapable 
of supporting the backbone 
of your crust. 
You are bread.
The enticing perfection of sour, 
salt
and steam.
Chosen companion, 
in celebration,
respite,
and depletion. 
You are bread.
Sacred nourisher,
abundance,
sustainer,
comforter, 
to all
gathered 
at your table.

ANNABELLE GUETATRA, Jardin Secret

BETWEEN THE GRAINS
Laura Hemmington

I.

I saw a picture once
of women lined up

hanging by a string 
in an attic of furred edges

side by side they held worship 
beneath their braided crowns 

II.

The night your eyes washed
dark against the brine

two anemones among 
the barnacles at ebb

you told me even stone 
shivers between the grains

III.

I dream of birds at home 
in marble palmed to offering 

silent in primordial night
until the women shake free 

their hum of sticky braids
and sow the song of cedar

THE WIND BECAME HER
Laurie Donaldson


The girl sang all the time, you could hear her
from a distance, lighting up the air.

She sang to the brightening clouds as the sky tumbled
and the trees shook, then stopped to stare.

She sang into the waves until a tern flew out
glistening, glutted with fish.

Nothing could hold her down or quieten
those savoured lingering notes.

She sang into the glowing hearth
until the rustling embers grew into blasting heat.

The fire she brought from far away,
and the wind became her and she was everywhere

and nowhere, still not lost.
You so wanted to hear her plaintive tune,

a heart streaming into the forgotten void
and blossoms erupting on her sigh.

And all memories were replaced by only now and this,
like unearthing an ancient coin browned with age

among roots crammed tight in old ground.
She sang loudly into herself until she was no longer

there and only her tune remained.
To find a face you know

in a crowd, a song you can hum,
words you find you already know.

On cold barren nights, among rime-edged
leaves in a forest where the trees stand like strangers,

where ravens rule
and light lasts into the night,

you could still make out
the remnants of her song,

a crying into the stillness
that lay over the land,

the air bleached of longing
solid objects becoming mere illusions

and ripples sent out
from thought rocks

just below the mind’s surface
into fever’s ocean dream.

thank you for enjoying these poems and sharing them on. the poets would love to hear from you in the comments. if you missed last week’s paid-subscriber newsletter from our EIC Jai Michelle Louissen, here is a peek at it.

we are in anticipation of our online issue Biophilia… coming soon!

until next week, wishing you the light of orchards…

Saraswati and Jai Michelle

read about today’s poets and artist here:

Martha Coats is a full-time writer of poetry, novellas and short stories. Her poems have been published by the Coalition and Shooter Literary Magazine and a short story was featured in Qu Literary Magazine. Her novella, Delivery, was a semi-finalist in the 2023 WTAW Alcove Chapbook Series. Martha earned a B.F.A. in Writing, Literature and Publishing from Emerson College and has worked at Peachtree Publishers in Atlanta, Workman Publishing in NYC and Pearson Education in New Jersey.

Laura Hemmington is a writer and freelance copywriter who lives on the Isle of Wight with her husband and their cat. Her poems have appeared in Crab Creek Review, No Contact, Lucent Dreaming, Black Bough Poetry, and The Madrigal. She's currently working on her first book.

Laurie Donaldson is a board member of the Federation of Writers (Scotland) and the Greenock Writers’ Club. He has had poems published in Dreich, Blue Bottle Journal, Cold Moon Journal, BRAG Writers Literary Magazine, Power Cut magazine, what3stories, the Primo Poetica Collection and Ink in Thirds (forthcoming), as well as numerous anthologies. He facilitates creative writing workshops, appears at open mics, and also reviews new poetry.

Annabelle Guetatra has found that drawing has become her main obsession and an imperious necessity after several years of studies and experiences. She uses different forms: free paper, sheets assembled in a book, sound book, paper mache, ceramics, engraving, editing, self-publishing and animation. The drawn scenes invite us as to the show, give us to see mysterious but well incarnated bodies, thrown in some sorts of absurd mimodramas, rituals choreographies or other enigmatic dance steps. Scenes of love caught in flagrante delicto, where the characters are dressed with accessories, masks, strange vegetation, furniture or animals not really identifiable. This masquerade inspired by childhood stories, travels (sometimes dreamed), tells us about life, its desires, its anxieties, its magic and its strange cruelty.