Daily Bread

10 August 2026

in the shadow of the granite upwelling at the west end of the lake I gather alone the sun begins to kneel and in the silence I can almost hear it recite its austere psalm deliberate, the sky sings of dimness and the crescent moon sustains the note my lunch remains worn plastic bread bag unleavened lapping wavelets take me travelling drifting on the winedark water I hunger not

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about the author

Mitchell Toews writes from a perch on the Betula Pluton in the boreal forest in fucking Canada (next door to the shitshow) where he and Janice drink the wild air and listen to the wind blow.