Estuary by Valerie Bacharach


Where river currents meet sea’s tide,
where salt and fresh water mingle,
where grief and joy blur edges,
a weaving of what the soul desires.
Plums and apricots, leftover bread,
the sounds of your laugh.


Valerie Bacharach received her MFA from Carlow University in poetry and is a member of the Madwomen in the Attic writing workshops. Her writing has appeared or will appear in: Vox Viola, Vox Populi, Whale Road Review, The Blue Mountain Review, EcoTheo Review, Kosmos Quarterly Journal, Amethyst Review, On the Seawall, Poetica, and Minyon Magazine. Her chapbook, Fireweed, was published in August 2018 by Main Street Rag. Her chapbook Ghost-Mother was published by Finishing Line Press in July, 2021. Her poem Self-Portrait with Origin Story was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

The City & The Sea by Sarah Wallis

The City & The Sea

The history of my family is not to make
waves, nor sail them, until my mother
from the Celts, rose to challenge,
a fierce, feminist warrior with sparkling
green eyes, a shield, a legacy,
Pankhurst, Shelley, Wollstonecraft.

I come from small flats with large rooms,
tall ceilings, London bound,
but the Welsh coast calling, contradictions
always, the city and the sea, male choirs
singing Land of Our Fathers,
Bread of Heaven, Abide With Me.

I come from tragedy. A missing heartbeat,

the sound filled up with mackerel housecats,

a gargantuan shell collection, housed

in glass cabinets, the sea sobbing in your ear.


Sarah Wallis is a poet and playwright based in Scotland, UK. Recent work is at Trampset, Lunate and Abridged (Nyx issue) online and in print journals Finished Creatures (Stranger issue) and The Alchemy Spoon (Metal issue). A chapbook, Medusa Retold, is available from @fly_press and she tweets @wordweave.

Not Alone, but Swimming — by Daniel Edward Moore

Not Alone, but Swimming

Does giving up mean being over,
                                                    the way a dumbbell leaves
the hand, saying this arm is done?

I listened to the sound the ocean makes
                                      where like a bridge I found myself
arched above your rippling yes,

feeling you curl under me as if
                                                   the arm that once was tired
found a way to bend again and

stroke the perfect blue. Wet
                                                     with wonder, we returned,
not alone, but swimming.
                                                    You made the sea believable.


Daniel Edward Moore lives in Washington on Whidbey Island. His poems are forthcoming in Lullwater Review, Emrys Journal, The Meadow, West Trade Review, Toho Journal, Muddy River Poetry Review, The Lindenwood Review, Sheila-Na-Gig Pandemic Anthology and the Chaffin Journal. He is the author of ‘Boys’ (Duck Lake Books) and “Waxing the Dents” (Brick Road Poetry Press).