Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • Drawing in a million fragments,
    Of strange sublunary life,
    Synapses singing,
    With the smells of home.

    Yet stepping with the jocund tilt,
    of a wayfarer after all,
    Only caravaning in time and space.

    Wandering under skies,
    Made grey with rain,
    Or piled with sunlit,
    Spiring cloud.

    Gypsying in the fields,
    And singing or silent,
    In the dappling forests,
    Of the dancing trees.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.