Henry Walters is a falconer and naturalist. He keeps Woody Guthrie’s Bound For Glory in one pocket and a razor in the other, with which he keeps up a meticulous, every-other-day shaving routine in public library lavatories. Henry’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in The American Guide, Hawk Migration Studies, Miracle Monocle, Tuesday: An Art Project, and other publications. He writes a biweekly blog about life in the woods for The Old Farmer’s Almanac.
All work
More from The Journal
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By Kelly Hill
Trying to wrap my mind around living on a tropical island for thirteen years and never once seeing the ocean, I stumbled through my Indonesian vocabulary to say, It’s good. It’s big.
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A dinosaur dangles over my grandson at the Field Museum near a pink thumb that pops into the prom picture of my granddaughter dressed in strapless red leaving her house in Medina …
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The bill in question is actually a 2,000 West African franc note, and it’s the equivalent of about four U.S. dollars. A helpful sum, really, but as I clutch the weathered crinkle in my sweaty palm, its value feels as dirty as the grime that is undoubtedly being transferred to my fingers.
- Poetry
to Egg and Berry brewery, to the pack / of Czechy words I made but didn’t work / in this pink town. I’d readily go back / to your best spots, the unfired gun, that perk //
- Poetry
By Jason Warren
And if the neap tides of my beauty / sadden him, I cannot help it: / I hang high, the waxy night light …
- Poetry
By Anastasia Vassos
Three thousand ancestors ask how I straddle / the sea, a foot on either shore. //
Read more Poetry or Postcard Prose