Poetry
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Beyond This Room
Sure Thing It is that with which the wind blows And the snowflakes carry from the skies The mountains echo in their deep crevasses The…
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Home | Bird and Broom
I’ve dropped my broom
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Winter Waning
Despite a warming climate, “there is still beauty even in this changing season.”
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Sandwash
Sam Miller-McDonald explores themes of greed and mortality through poetry imbued with imagery that evokes essences and scenes of the natural world.
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Other Creatures: A Poetic Tribute
Have you ever been asked, “If you could be any animal in the world, which animal would you be?” This is a tribute to all…
Articles and Prose
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A Burnt Metal Ecosystem
Frozen in a burnt copper substrate, surrounded With whorls and tides of a creature’s past, a steadfast
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Stone Memory
On July 23rd, 2018, I witnessed a 10’ flash flood tear past my Santa Fe home. A tsunami in a quiet valley, washing downstream animals,…
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2023 Print Edition
Ecological Memory The loss of memory can be devastating. Last year, SAGE published our first print magazine since 2020. It was a massive undertaking, clouded…
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In the Green
I’m not a very good nature tour guide. For one thing, I don’t know much about nature. For another, I walk very quickly; I have…
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Re-Memories of Warming
Memories are translations. We gather much and miss more. I originally compiled this archive in spring of 2022 for a final project in a course…
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A Visit to “The New York Earth Room”
Today’s itinerary: visit Earth Room, where a layer of soil, two feet thick, has occupied a gallery in SoHo since 1977.
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Sand Mining – A Photo Essay in Koilwar, India
This is the first ever photo-essay shot on sand mining in Koilwar, Bhojpur district Bihar. The sand mining nexus in Bihar is intricate and involves…
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2022 Print Edition
CULTIVATION Cultivation: the act of caring for living things of all kinds.Cultivation: tilling, tending to, and turning pieces of the world over and over in…
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The Apple Orchard
When we moved back to Michigan, we bought an old farmhouse on five acres. I was still married then, with three young daughters and soon…
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The Quiet Season
The days are short and cold, and it snowed last Sunday. The tree canopies, now brown, have thinned. The birds have begun migrating southwards —…
