Vox Populi

A curated webspace for Poetry, Politics, and Nature with over 6,000,000 visitors since 2014 and over 9,000 archived posts.

Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Late Afternoon Stroll on the Cliffs

As usual, Death sweetly slips her arm in mine—
& we take a deep breath from the eucalyptus breeze.
We both worked honestly at our jobs: all day Death
destroyed traffic with wailing ambulances while I killed
hours & lines on eight-&-a-half by eleven-inch pages.
We’re fast friends by now. Death much older of course,
but there’s no hierarchy between us: we’re both taking
a break from it all, glad to watch waves collapse on rocks
& pelicans dive-bomb fish. I try to be sensitive to Death’s
guilt: that whole pandemic disaster she can no longer
control. She’ll soon betray me too — like she will you.
I know. But today the gulls are silver angels etching
great cursive blessings in a perfect sky — so Death & I
make believe we believe that, & amble on.

~~~

Copyright © 2022 by Laure-Anne Bosselaar. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February 15, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.

Laure-Anne Bosselaar at a book signing in Santa Cruz, California, March 2023.

Laure-Anne Bosselaar’s recent books of poetry include Lately (Sungold Editions, 2024) and  These Many Rooms (Four Way Books, 2019). She served as Poet Laureate of Santa Barbara until April 2021.


Discover more from Vox Populi

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

2 comments on “Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Late Afternoon Stroll on the Cliffs

  1. Christine Rhein
    March 9, 2026
    Christine Rhein's avatar

    Such a lovely and powerful sonnet. “We both worked honestly at our jobs…” is stunning. Once again: Brava, Laure-Anne!

    Like

  2. Sean Sexton
    March 9, 2026
    Sean Sexton's avatar

    A gladsome wistfulness casts these lovely lines, propels me to the setting in the garden of its effects that also live in the poets heart. Death is ever present and as we age and the horizon draws ever closer, one begins to understand it’s not going away. What can we do but at last make friends and invite it in to our thoughts like the hungry stranger still waiting at the door after so many days, as happens in this beautiful poem.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a reply to Sean Sexton Cancel reply

Blog Stats

  • 5,969,380

Archives

Discover more from Vox Populi

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading