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Liv is an urban monk, a poet, a painter, a birder, and a student of Christian Spirituality. She has been engaged in creative writing more or less consistently for two decades and was slightly startled, though far from displeased, to discover that poetry is her medium. When she’s not writing, Liv practices gardening, pipe-smoking, leather-working, and mischief. She has been published in Loft Books, The Blue Daisies Journal, The Way Back To Ourselves, and Vessels of Light. Peeks into her work can be found on Instagram and Twitter.

The Moth

The fingers of my right hand are stained, smudged by the smeared scales of rumpled wings. A half-crushed moth quivers in my left palm. It will not…

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The Garden Gate

Welcome, my friend, please enter through my gate! For sun is off sleeping, and night is fine. Your road may be long, but now it can wait…

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