The Rumen is a collaboration between writers and poets from a variety of demographics and backgrounds. Like the guts of an ungulate, we want The Rumen to be a space for ideas and experiences to digest, ferment, and transform.
Trees, asleep in winter, dreaming of sun and blossoms. And why shouldn’t they?
By Ellen Orr
As cast in copper, pelican reflects. // Pale plumage tarred brown. Preening // for naught: water seeps in, chills.
There is an instant in all // Beginnings and endings // Where trees wait to bloom, // And rivers wait to flow.
I wake up. The morning sun is seeping in through the closed curtains. What a beautiful day!
A snake removes its skin // and sheds what little innocence // we might have given credence to.
By Tommy Cheis
Terror. In the sweat lodge. Drumming. Singing. Great Ones whispering.
By Glenn Wright
The black and yellow wasps // came at us from all directions.
Have a poem, short story, or piece of creative non-fiction that you'd like to share with the world? Visit our submissions page to learn more about contributing to The Rumen.