HeyJaredOut With Lanterns
Out With Lanterns, a daily poetry practice with Julie Barton
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 16
- Latest publication
- Sep 28, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 10, 2026
Latest issues
Three Kingfisher Day (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedWe two went to the coast for two quiet, sacred days with seagull and blue heron, elegant tern and marbled godwit. Each morning and all night, they called across the lagoon, beckoning: return, return, return. Nothing artificial about such intelligence, original intelligence. Along the winding road, I spied one belted kingfisher, then another, then another, perched, watching water, pointed mohawks defiant. Declared it a banner
On Trying (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedOnce again I am starting over having failed yesterday and the day before and isn’t it glorious? There’s no matter in failure, no weight or heft, only doors swinging wide open at the day’s orange end to crows clucking, “Look!” As if they’re celebrating. As if they’ve seen it all and cheered me trying again, again. I’ve made offerings to these crows for years. In return, they share their lightness, their laughter at
& & (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedshe was good at being good & bending into a pretzel for dipping, mustard greens on the good bread, warm the sweet cinnamon loaf chewed & downed with guilt gone masticated by now, by all intents & purposes, by all intentions not at all meant to be anything worth swallowing yet here she is in the belly of it all calling as loud as she can, & she’s getting louder now<a class="button primary" href="https:/
Resisting My Evolution (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedThe forest is calling but I don’t leave the house don’t go to the trees for reasons unclear. Perhaps I’ll go tomorrow, wander, tiptoe into the redwood grove, apologize for my absence, my doubts, ask raven for forgiveness make offerings to the fae tell them I’m only human so unevolved, overinvolved, wanting only to escape not inhabit this life. I can teach you, the trees will say, the value of stillness, of listening to quie
Beloved (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedToo long I have been listening to the wrong voices, thoughts slinging quiet insults just under the windowsill, splatting loud then running away, ding dong ditching, leaving me dark. Five decades in, I remember again how this listening led to believing there was lead in my soul and shoes. So I’ve been practicing hearing anything else: the dark eyed junco, the red shouldered hawk, branches whistling in wind. What good is it to
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