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Wild Greens 5, no. 11 (September 2025)
Wild Greens 5, no. 11 (September 2025)
Time
Time
Welcome to the September 2025 issue of Wild Greens
Welcome to the September 2025 issue of Wild Greens
Stealing, wasting, spending, passing, keeping— how do you reckon with time? Do the ticking second hands of a clock keep the same time as the chimes of the town’s church bells? Is the excruciating count kept by an exam proctor the same as the night sky’s phases of the moon? And where are you, yourself, in this stream of fast and slow motion we call time?
Maggie Topel’s digital WG logo chooses to depict the passage of time through a tumbling hourglass. “Temporal Logic,” a poem by Louis Faber, considers how we measure time. “Cultivate,” our watercolor cover by Hayley J. Boyle, depicts wild greens growing over an analog clock.
Sue Sesnon Salt’s personal essay “My Grandfather’s Clock” uses a poem by Henry Clay Work as way to remember the grandfather clock in her childhood home. “AND TIME DOES FLY,” a painting in acrylic by Judith R. Robinson, depicts this abstract flight in movement and color. In David Blumenfeld’s poem “Sometimes at 88,” the poet considers his upcoming 88th birthday. Ivona Mitankina’s digital drawing “Spilling Tea in Palermo” spends an afternoon with good friends.
“Hawking Back,” a poem by Michael R. Evans, considers the inch-by-inch way it feels to remember time. In Sarah Jane Timmons’s watercolor and ink “Game in the Sand,” the sand in an hourglass becomes an artist’s self-imposed timeline— “the weight of your dreams.”
In Ashley Parker Owens’s poem, “Queen Anne’s Lace” blooms at a memorial on a rural highway in Kentucky. Donald Patten’s “Master Artworks in COVID-19,” a series of works in charcoal, draws upon a tradition of master painters to depict the experience of living during a time of disaster. Dave Brey’s original song affirms the value of every individual, and the journey to getting where we want to be, “In Time.” “The Countdown” by Lynne Marie Rosenberg depicts the way time can control us.
“Ancient,” a poem by Patricia Russo, considers aging. In “Quick Inspiration,” a comic by Melissa Lomax, a podcast plays on double speed. Liz deBeer’s short story “Impatient Room” observes the other people waiting in the waiting room with you. In Ngonidzashe Mhizha’s photograph “Celestial Canvas,” the light of dawn or sunset slows down the passage of time.
-Rebecca
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
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Wild Greens: Time (September 2025)
Wild Greens: Time (September 2025)
by Maggie Topel
Digital drawing
Inspiration: For the theme of "Time," I imagined a tumbling hourglass showing the passage of time. I decided to go with an hourglass instead of something more modern like a digital clock because I think the old-fashioned hourglass is more romantic and timeless! I've actually been thinking about getting an hourglass for my desk, but I haven't found the perfect one yet.
Temporal Logic
Once upon a timeisn’t such a timeless expressionif you take time to considerthat time doesn’t actually flynor does it march on,and if it is truly on our sidewe wouldn’t need to buy it.I don’t need it to smell the rosesand it doesn’t wait for me,although I am still humanand just killing it,but perhaps neither of ushave time for this.Temporal Logic
by Louis Faber
Cultivate
Cultivate
by Hayley J. Boyle
Watercolor
My Grandfather's Clock
by Sue Sesnon SaltMy Grandfather's Clock
“My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelfSo it stood ninety years on the floorIt was taller by half than the old man himself,Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.”
Like a sentry guarding a palace entrance, our grandfather clock stood at the base of the curved staircase reaching upwards. It had belonged to my grandparents, but now it was ours to care for and enjoy. It was beautiful, a work of art, a variety of inlaid woods forming intricate patterns on its front, its crown topped by brass finials.
On Saturday morning, I’d watch my father performing the weekly ritual, learned from his father, of winding this timepiece. Inserting a key in each keyhole on its face, he would patiently turn them, raising two brass cylindrical weights on their delicate chains until they reached the top, poised to start their slow weekly descent. The shiny brass pendulum with its round disc was alone now, rhythmically swinging, waiting for the returning weights.
The clock’s face had soft, muted tones, while the moon dial above tracked the phases of the lunar cycle. It was reset every week to be in the proper place, waxing faces on the left and waning on the right. The chimes were deep, round, and hollow, a sound pushing from the depths of a huge bottomless cavern, reverberating up the stairs and into my bedroom at the top, a comforting softness on sleepless nights as it signaled the hour and the half-hour.
First called long case clocks, they were built in the late seventeenth century when, in 1658, Robert Hooke invented an anchor escapement mechanism replacing the previous pendulum workings. They became known as Grandfather Clocks in 1876 from the poem by Henry Clay Work, soon sung by every child and familiar to every adult.
When my father died, my eldest brother, a widower, took the clock when he moved into a smaller and more modern home. The clock lived in his den, overlooking his desk and his books, keeping him company like an old familiar friend, its gentle ticking a voice. He now took over the weekly winding to keep it on time. We siblings loved visiting it and unearthing old memories while listening to softer and gentler chimes.
Our family constantly changed size and shape. We elders settled into quiet lives while grandchildren arrived full of energy and wonder at this magnificent clock. They loved to watch the ritual winding and eagerly waited for the chimes to ring out. With each subsequent move, the grandfather clock’s home became smaller and smaller while it seemed larger and larger.
The time had finally come when both my brother and I made arrangements to move into senior housing. The young did not want this proud old clock. “Too big,” said one. Another, “No room.” Two said they intended to travel and see the world and live out of a backpack, and a few said they just didn’t want “stuff.”
Along with my brother, I sadly set out one bright sunny day with a list of clockmakers and repair shops and antique dealers and any place we could think of that might be interested in finding a home for our beautiful clock.
“Not interested,” said one. “You’re kidding,” said another. “Hmm,” said a third. The eleventh laughed. “Look in that back room,” he told us. We peered into a long, narrow room with a line of clocks against the wall. They were of different heights, varying colors, some painted, some various wood tones. Some were elegant and stately, some plain and dowdy. They clustered together shoulder to shoulder like a rag-tag army.
Carrying our beloved clock into the back room, we placed it with the others. Without so much as a backward glance, we left, our hearts heavy.
“And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to knowNinety years without slumbering(Tick, tock, tick, tock) But it stopped short—never to run again.”AND TIME DOES FLY
AND TIME DOES FLY
by Judith R. Robinson
Acrylic paint
Inspiration: THE SWIFT PASSAGE OF TIME
Sometimes at 88
“Time is the least plausible of our fictions.” –Diane AckermanSometimes at 88
Sometimes at 88, it seems I’ve lived forever—eons and eons slowly, relentlessly elapsed,time’s petty pace a perpetual procession, events dripping, dragging, draining slow-motion, endlessly, languidly lento, blurred memoriesa slick silvery slime track. Time’s fading snail trail a dulled image so monotonous dreary death would be a consummationdevoutly to be wished.
Yet sometimes at 88, it seems life’s flashed by in an incandescent instant—past-present-future presto—compressed in a momentary mesmerizing flare, blazing, blaring, burning the arid air of my miasmic mind. A wind whizzed by, instantaneous flicker, lightning’s fleeting afterglowcontracted singularity, bottom of the blackest black holeswallowing in a single gulp the self-consuming light—gone as soon as it’s begun—no longer the light that was itself.
Is it an endless trek, a flashbulb flare, or just an idea in the mind of God?
by David Blumenfeld
Spilling Tea in Palermo
Spilling Tea in Palermo
by Ivona Mitankina
Adobe Fresco
Inspiration: This piece is inspired by the time we cherish with close friends, the long, talkative afternoons over tea, where time seems to stretch and disappear. The warm tones and city view are meant to capture a timeless kind of intimacy.
Hawking Back
My first inchworm, its head sniffing the airlike a dog, was also my first geometry teacher. It inched four times in a square across your hand,Hawking Back
Mother sang, and you’re four years old. Timeis an inchworm, an otherworldly creature doing toe-touches and stretches, rhythmic like Mom
at the YWCA. We’ll leave in three more sets. Time was sets. She said I leaped in her belly as the Apollo astronauts barely touched ground
and hopped on the Moon dust. I couldn’t yetmeasure time. At eleven years old, I woke early for Columbia’s first flight. I jumped
up and down at T minus ten seconds. Time isT in seconds. I measured backward to my birthand back again eleven years to NASA’s first satellites.
At sixteen, Challenger exploded while I cooked burgers near a punch clock that measured the distance down the card. Time was money. My twelve-year-old father
fixed radios, for coins, a decade before one giant leap for mankind. Grandma was thirty-two, only twice the age I was when I counted inches on a timeline like Stephen
Hawking visualized complex algebra on polygons.Three years into the new millennium, Columbia exploded, and Great-grandma died. She’d survived
three husbands in three centuries, but they’d chiseled 1898 to 19— into her tombstone. Now, I’m Hawking back three sets of fifty-five and have reached the Civil War.
by Michael R. Evans
Game in the Sand
Game in the Sand
by Sarah Jane Timmons
Watercolor, ink
Inspiration: "Game in the Sand" was created in response to a song by a local artist who sang about feeling trapped in the suburbs and wondering if he was running out of time to chase his dreams. What a relatable feeling. I loved this idea of putting the world he was describing within the hourglass. The multi-colored sand represents the creative's own self-imposed idea of a timeline, the weight of your dreams filing up your daily life. The tiny birds breaking free give the piece a sense of hope.
Queen Anne's Lace
Queen Anne's Lace
Queen Anne’s lace blooms
where no one looks,delicate umbels explodingin seventy-mile-per-hour blindnessalong Route 27where the small white crossmarks where Darla and Patricktook the curve too fastin 2004.
The bouquet is plastic,faded by twenty summers,but the real ones keep coming back, wild long stemsthat seeds itselfin the exact spotwhere the Chevy left the road.
Each floret carries a drop of bloodat its center, legend says.Now I know whose bloodthe flowers remember,whose speed became stillnessin the space betweenseeing the treeand impact.
The flowers bend in slipstreamfrom eighteen-wheelershauling freight toward Louisville,and bow in exhaustionat the end of of a summerwhere people want to besomewhere else.
I slow down here now,not from virtuebut from the particular weightof knowing names,of remembering Darla’s laughin senior year chemistry,how Patrick played the drumson his desk during tests.
where no one looks,delicate umbels explodingin seventy-mile-per-hour blindnessalong Route 27where the small white crossmarks where Darla and Patricktook the curve too fastin 2004.
The bouquet is plastic,faded by twenty summers,but the real ones keep coming back, wild long stemsthat seeds itselfin the exact spotwhere the Chevy left the road.
Each floret carries a drop of bloodat its center, legend says.Now I know whose bloodthe flowers remember,whose speed became stillnessin the space betweenseeing the treeand impact.
The flowers bend in slipstreamfrom eighteen-wheelershauling freight toward Louisville,and bow in exhaustionat the end of of a summerwhere people want to besomewhere else.
I slow down here now,not from virtuebut from the particular weightof knowing names,of remembering Darla’s laughin senior year chemistry,how Patrick played the drumson his desk during tests.
Late summer the spent bloomscurl into nests,brown lace protecting seedsthat will spring up again next Junewhether we rememberor drive pastat speeds that turnwildflowers into blur,crosses into mile markers,and teenagers into statisticsabout rural highway safety.
The Queen Anne’s lace doesn’t knowit’s growing in a graveyard.It just knows how to come back,how to make something beautifulfrom disturbed ground,how to thrive every summerin the exact placewhere everything endedand nothingwas everthe same.
The Queen Anne’s lace doesn’t knowit’s growing in a graveyard.It just knows how to come back,how to make something beautifulfrom disturbed ground,how to thrive every summerin the exact placewhere everything endedand nothingwas everthe same.
by Ashley Parker Owens
Master Artworks in COVID-19
Master Artworks in COVID-19
by Donald Patten
Charcoal on canvas
Inspiration: Almost overnight, COVID-19 had changed the way people interact with each other, and with our own bodies. We lived our lives in vulnerability during that historically significant time of disaster. The initial phases of the pandemic are behind us, but the virus remains and continues to be dangerous. The societal trauma this pandemic has caused will be remembered and felt by those who have lived through it for the foreseeable future.
In the past, master painters would depict historically significant disasters that happened to them as a way to cope. Artists of the 19th century depicted hardships and trauma in the wake of the Industrial Revolution, which began the formation of our modern world. As an artist learning the techniques of masters, I have the opportunity to create long-lasting visual information that depicts the trauma of this pandemic.
Therefore, I have created a series of drawings that represent my experiences in modern COVID life by drawing inspiration from past masterpieces that depict the embodied experience of trauma.
In Time
In Time
Music, Lyrics, and Performance by Dave Brey
In Time by Dave Brey Edit 1 Export 1 - David Brey.mp3Lyrics:
I’ve got a way about meThat’s never been second guessed, never challengedYou’ve got a way about you tooWe spend time in places, we’ve seen facesNo one should have to seeYeah, I’m talking to youAnd every night when I’m fighting my mindTelling my kids it’s gonna be alrightI see you, you see meWe’re not where we want to beBut that’s alrightWe’ll get there in time
You’ve got a way about youThat lets other people see the truthAbout how they want to beWe try hard and harderTo make things better, but we can’tSee the forest for the trees
And every night when I’m fighting my mindTelling my kids it’s gonna be alrightI see you, you see meWe’re not where we want to beBut that’s alrightWe’ll get there in time
The Countdown
The Countdown
by Lynne Marie Rosenberg
Ink, graphite
Inspiration: Perhaps because my drawing career was rekindled during the pandemic, much of my work engages with the concepts of time. This piece, The Countdown, touches on the control our relationship with the construct of time has on us.
Ancient
His breathing sounds like the wheezing of a sick kitten.Not every night, but often enoughthat she has started to contemplatewhich of his papers to destroyand which can safely be donatedto that one university that expressed interesta decade ago.Ancient
The dog, who is ancient, lifts his headwhenever she steps into the roomas if on guard duty.We’re on the same side, she says,but the dog is convinced otherwise.At night, sometimes, it growlsdeep and longas if the approaching thunderclapcould be frightened awayby the sight of one dull, yellowed fang.
by Patricia Russo
Quick Inspiration
Quick Inspiration
by Melissa Lomax
Digital drawing, color
Inspiration: I am especially grateful to have comics as a way to document the important and the random moments in my life. This particular piece was just that, a fleeting moment in time that I would have most likely forgotten. I also love that art can connect you with the people who help to inspire you. The podcaster mentioned in this comic, Andy J. Pizza, saw this piece and thought it was funny too!
Impatient Room
by Liz deBeerImpatient Room
Although Eugenia arrived early for her ophthalmology appointment, the waiting room is packed. She glares at a bald man wearing ringlets of fat around his neck. Next to him, a young woman lists symptoms into her phone—and to the entire waiting room. Stomach flu, the woman speculates as she coughs and gags, spreading droplets of filth all over.
Across from Eugenia sits a man dressed in the city’s football team regalia: cap, jacket, sweatsuit, and Lord-knows-what else. Probably his boxers, too, but thankfully, she can’t see those. He’s chatting with an unfortunate soul adorned in clingy polyester, going on about “The Game.” The polyester-clad person needs a haircut; split ends visible from across the room. In the corner, another man has wedged his oversized body into a vinyl armchair and fallen asleep. Spittle on his chapped lips form tiny bubbles that rise and fall with his low snores.
Now someone’s checking in with a toddler who’s spinning around and around, a lollipop clenched in its mouth. Lord help us all if this child gets dizzy and vomits. It’s just too much, being with these, these, people.
The receptionist should have contacted her, warned her about the doctor’s delay. She would have rescheduled her cataract exam, for heaven’s sake. Eugenia stands up, prepared to give the front desk staff a piece of her mind. But before she takes even two steps, she trips over her handbag. Her hands flail like a cartoon character as she thuds to the floor-that-was-last-cleaned-God-only-knows when.
Splayed on the cool linoleum, Eugenia stares at dusty puffs under a table covered with germy magazines. Her right wrist throbs; she feels something warm on her knee, perhaps blood. She doesn’t want to look at these people or, God forbid, ask for help. She’s sure they’re staring at her, judging her, thinking she’s clumsy or even intoxicated.
Reluctantly, she turns her head. Gaping at Eugenia, the toddler announces, “Fell down,” and extends a gooey lollipop. “Lolli?”
“I did fall down,” Eugenia confirms from the floor. “But no, no thank you.”
The sleeping man jerks awake, sputtering, “You okay?” while the stomach-flu woman shouts to the receptionist to get a doctor. The football-fan and the bald man move into Eugenia’s line of vision, each offering a hand. She’d really rather not, but, but, she could use the assistance. The polyester person coos comfort: “It’ll-be-alright, it’ll-be-alright, best-place-to-fall’s-a-doctor’s-office.”
The child squats, chocolate eyes inches from Eugenia’s nose. “Boo boo?”
“Yes, I—” Something clutches Eugenia’s chest, presses into her eyes. She gasps as hot tears drip down and, Oh Lord, mucus too.
The toddler kneels to kiss Eugenia’s forehead. Then places a pudgy hand on Eugenia’s back, rubbing her shoulders, murmuring, “Better?”
Lord knows where those little hands have been. But Eugenia shuts her eyes, allowing herself to be stroked, murmuring, “Yes, yes. I’m better.”
Celestial Canvas
Celestial Canvas
by Ngonidzashe Mhizha
Photography
Inspiration: I'm drawn to landscapes at dawn and sunset, moments filled with breathtaking hues. In moments like these, time moves slowly like molasses.
If you like the issue, you can donate to Wild Greens through our Ko-fi page!
Artists and Contributors
Artists and Contributors
Maggie Topel
Maggie Topel
Artist
Artist
Maggie Topel (she/her) is an artist and writer living in Philadelphia. She designs our seasonal Wild Greens logos and social media avatar.
Louis Faber
Louis Faber
Poet
Poet
Louis Faber is a poet and writer living in Florida. His work has appeared in MacGuffin, Cantos, Alchemy Spoon (UK), Meniscus and Arena Magazine (Australia), New Feathers Anthology, Dreich (Scotland), Prosetrics, Atlanta Review, Glimpse, Rattle, Pearl, and The South Carolina Review, among many others, and has been nominated for a Best of the Web and twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize. His new book of poetry, Free of the Shadow, was recently published by Plain View Press. He can be found at https://anoldwriter.com and @anoldwriter.bsky.social.
Sue Sesnon Salt
Sue Sesnon Salt
Author
Author
Sue Sesnon Salt is a fourth generation Californian. She is now retired and has the time to pursue her writing. Her essays have been published in Blood and Bourbon, Pure Slush, Pacific Review and on the Brevity Blog. Her poetry is featured in the Women in a Golden State anthology and the Wave. A personal essay is forthcoming in Persimmon Tree.
Judith R. Robinson
Judith R. Robinson
Artist
Artist
Judith R. Robinson is an editor, teacher, fiction writer, poet, and visual artist. A summa cum laude graduate of the University of Pittsburgh, she is listed in the Directory of American Poets and Writers. She has published 100+ poems, five poetry collections, one fiction collection; one novel; edited or co-edited eleven poetry collections. She is a teacher at Osher Lifelong Learning Institute at Carnegie Mellon University and the University of Pittsburgh. Her newest poetry collection is Buy A Ticket, WordTech Editions, April 1, 2022. Her newest edited collection is “Speak, Speak,” poetry of Gene Hirsch, Cyberwit.com 2020. Her work, The Numbers Keep Changing: Poems and Paintings, was featured at The Holocaust Center of Pittsburgh from April to June 2019. Her most recent art gallery exhibit, New Works, was featured at Square Café in September 2021, and her current art gallery exhibit is The Art of Friendship: Judy Robinson & Kara Snyder at the American Jewish Museum, Jewish Community Center (JCC) of Greater Pittsburgh, from September-November 2024. She was awarded First Prize in The Reuben Rose International Poetry Competition for Voices Israel in 2024.
You can reach her via her website at www.judithrrobinson.com or email at alongtheserivers@gmail.com.
David Blumenfeld
David Blumenfeld
Poet
Poet
David Blumenfeld (he/him) is a former philosophy professor who resumed writing stories and poems after a break of more than forty years. Since 2022, he has been nominated twice for a Pushcart Prize. One of his pieces received a “notable essay” mention in The Best American Essays 2023, another was featured in The Best American Haiku 2023, and 10 of his works were finalists or received other high praise in literary magazines. Davidcblumenfeld.com
Ivona Mitankina
Ivona Mitankina
Artist
Artist
Ivona Mitankina is an illustrator from Serbia, currently living in Vratsa, Bulgaria. With a background in costume design, she brings a strong sense of narrative and atmosphere into her artwork. Ivona illustrates children’s books and creates personal projects inspired by everyday rituals, travel, and the quiet beauty of human connection. She is passionate about expanding into editorial illustration, where her warm, textural style can capture both nostalgia and contemporary stories
Michael R. Evans
Michael R. Evans
Poet
Poet
Michael R. Evans (he/him), a poet, writing tutor, and academic editor, is a native of upstate New York who resides in Los Angeles with two cats. He thrives in a talented online writing community and recently started submitting his poetry and fiction. He began creative writing decades ago while earning his BA in communication and writing with an emphasis in journalism. His MA is in theology and the arts. He authored Jesus, Fads, and the Media (Mason Crest 2006) and travel articles about living in Russia (1997). His work has appeared in ONE ART and the Elysian poetry and art exhibit at the Eclipse Center for Creative Community.
Sarah Jane Timmons
Sarah Jane Timmons
Artist
Artist
Sarah Jane Timmons pulls on heartstrings using watercolor and ink. As a Philadelphia-based artist and graphic designer, she draws from her city and the trails and parks that surround it. Her artistic style is light, airy, and filled with storytelling. Sarah uses soft washes of watercolor combined with delicate ink line work to depict woodland creatures and both urban and natural landscapes with a sense of whimsy. Through her work, Sarah invites others to rediscover the beauty and magic in the world around them. Explore more of her art at www.sarahjanetimmons.com.
Ashley Parker Owens
Ashley Parker Owens
Poet
Poet
Ashley Parker Owens is an Appalachian writer, poet, artist, and spiritualist living in Richmond, Kentucky, where the bluegrass meets the foothills and the past clings to the present. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing from Eastern Kentucky University. She also holds an MFA in Visual Arts from Rutgers University, though her most valuable education came from sixty-five years of listening to Kentucky’s stories, told through floods and fires, mine closures and overdoses, church suppers and emergency room vigils. Retired from her career as a software engineering analyst, she now writes from a duplex on the fringes of Richmond’s college sprawl. The forest serves as her backyard, where raccoons treat her kitchen like their personal drive-through, aggravating the horde of stray cats she feeds.
These poems emerged from the recognition that grief and love are both Kentucky inheritances, written for family and friends lost too soon and for the landscapes that thrive in overlooked places. Her previous published poetry collections include Euphoric Drift (2018), Retrospecter (2019), Unruly Spirits (Dancing Girl Press, 2018), Puppet (Rinky Dink Press, 2018), and Territorial Misfortune (2017).
Donald Patten
Donald Patten
Artist
Artist
Donald Patten is an artist and cartoonist from Belfast, Maine. He creates oil paintings, illustrations, ceramics, and graphic novels. His art has been exhibited in galleries throughout Maine. To view his online portfolio, visit @donald.patten on Instagram.
Dave Brey
Dave Brey
Musician
Musician
A reclusive creative, Dave enjoys making things in fits and starts when he can get out of his own way. Influenced by American ideals and delusions, he believes that creating and sharing art, writing, music, and love are the why behind all the world's how.
Lynne Marie Rosenberg
Lynne Marie Rosenberg
Artist
Artist
Lynne Marie Rosenberg is a visual artist, writer, educator, and TV presenter based in Brooklyn, NY. She is the creator and host of the 3-time Emmy-nominated, Webby-Honored PBS television series, Famous Cast Words, and the creator and host of the children's YouTube series, Kid Prompts. She teaches at NYU Tisch in the Playwrights Horizons Theater School studio, is a research fellow at Maynooth University in Ireland, a member of the Fulbright Specialist Roster, and is a long-time volunteer at The 52nd Street Project, a nonprofit organization serving youth in Hell’s Kitchen
Patricia Russo
Patricia Russo
Poet
Poet
Patricia Russo has had poems in Acropolis Journal, The Turning Leaf Journal, The Twin Bird Review, and Metachrosis Literary.
Melissa Lomax
Melissa Lomax
Artist
Artist
Melissa Lomax (she/her) is a freelance illustrator, writer, and cartoonist, with 20 years of experience in the creative industry. Some of her clients include American Greetings, Sellers Publishing, Great Arrow Graphics, Lenox Corporation, and Highlights for Children. Her comic 'Doodle Town' posts on GoComics.com, the largest catalog of syndicated cartoons and comics. When she is not in the art studio, she enjoys spending time in nature, drinking really good coffee, and 'everyday adventures' with her husband. Pop by her Instagram @melissalomaxart for weekly inspiration!
Liz deBeer
Liz deBeer
Author
Author
Liz deBeer is a teacher and writer with Project Write Now, a writing cooperative based in New Jersey. Her latest flash has appeared in BULL, Fictive Dream, Bending Genres, and others. She has written essays in various journals including Brevity Blog. She holds degrees from University of Pennsylvania and Rutgers University. Follow Liz at www.ldebeerwriter.com and https://lizardstale.substack.com.
Ngonidzashe Mhizha
Ngonidzashe Mhizha
Artist
Artist
Ngoniszashe Mhizha is a Zimbabwean aspiring poet and short story writer, a Pushcart Prize nominee. You can find her published work on www.1sail1art.org. You can WhatsApp her on 0785056703 or message her on Facebook.
Tim Brey
Tim Brey
Music Editor
Music Editor
Tim Brey (he/him) is a jazz pianist living in Philadelphia. He holds positions as Artist-in-Residence and Adjunct Faculty at Temple University and West Chester University, where he teaches jazz piano, music theory, and improvisation. Check out more of his music and his performance schedule at https://www.timbreymusic.com.
Jessica Doble
Jessica Doble
Poetry Editor
Poetry Editor
Jessica Doble (she/her) holds a PhD in English from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. She's published two critical works: “Hope in the Apocalypse: Narrative Perspective as Negotiation of Structural Crises in Salvage the Bones” in Xavier Review, and “Two-Sides of the Same Witchy Coin: Re-examining Belief in Witches through Jeannette Winterson’s The Daylight Gate” in All About Monsters. Her poetry has appeared in PubLab and Wild Greens magazine.
Myra Chappius
Myra Chappius
Poetry Editor and Copyeditor
Poetry Editor and Copyeditor
Myra Chappius (she/her) is the author of six works of fiction and poetry. While her passion lies with shorter creations, it is her aspiration to complete a full-length novel and screenplay someday. She enjoys reading, tennis, cinema, live music, and seeing the world. When not doing mom things, she is working full-time, learning yet another language, and planning her next adventure.
Her work can be purchased on Amazon.
Jacqueline Ruvalcaba
Jacqueline Ruvalcaba
Senior Editor
Senior Editor
Jacqueline (she/her) edits fiction and nonfiction as the senior editor for Wild Greens magazine. She earned her BA in English and creative writing at the University of California, Riverside, and completed training as a 2021 publishing fellow with the Los Angeles Review of Books. She previously served as a co-editor for PubLab, editor for UCR's Mosaic Art and Literary Journal, and as an intern with Soho Press. In her free time, she loves to read all kinds of stories, including YA, literary fiction, sci-fi, and fantasy.
Hayley Boyle
Hayley Boyle
Arts Editor
Arts Editor
Hayley (she/her) creates the cover image for every issue of Wild Greens and serves as the Arts Editor. Hayley is a social justice seeker, world traveler, rock climber, dog snuggler, frisbee player, event planner, and storyteller. She loves to paint with watercolors, embroider, and write. She grew up reading sci-fi and fantasy, and, to this day, she still turns to those genres to help her make sense of the world. She calls Philadelphia home where she lives with her husband Evan and dog Birdie, and she wouldn't have it any other way. You can find Hayley on Instagram @hayley3390.
Rebecca Lipperini
Rebecca Lipperini
Editor-in-chief
Editor-in-chief
Rebecca Lipperini (she/her) is a writer, teacher, and academic living in Philadelphia, and the founding editor of Wild Greens magazine. She holds a PhD in English from Rutgers University, where she taught all kinds of classes on literature and poetry and writing, and wrote all kinds of papers on the same. Her essay on the soothing aesthetics of the supermarket was recently published in PubLab. She teaches in the Critical Writing Program at the University of Pennsylvania.
You can find Rebecca on Instagram @rebeccalipperini (personal) @wildgreensmag (you already know it).
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