Hayden Saunier: A Cartography of Home
My mother was a place. She was the where
from which I rose.
Kenneth Fearing: LOVE, 20 Cents The First Quarter Mile
I forgive you for being beautiful and generous and wise.
I forgive you, to put it simply, for being alive, and pardon you, in short, for being you.
Michael Simms: Dust
The distinct nothingness of my life
suddenly seems glorious,
a particle of dust dancing in the light
beside eight billion others
W.S. Merwin: To the New Year
our hopes such as they are
invisible before us
untouched and still possible
Joy Gaines-Friedler: Winter, Go Ahead
see the moon lay its Templar light
over everything
even the swing-set in its cold metal
Robert Wrigley: What She Said
She said to him, Oh, Jack, what have they done?
Michael Simms: Writing Prompt #1 | The Quotidian Poem
This post marks the beginning of a new irregular feature in Vox Populi. I hope readers of Vox Populi, many of whom are writers, will find the prompt helpful in stimulating their creativity.
Stephen Dobyns: Leaf Blowers
That autumn morning he awoke to the crying
of lost souls that quickly changed to the roar
of leaf blowers up and down the street
Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Arroyo Burro Beach
Look at me, writing circles around what I must face:
The man I love is dead.
Denise Levertov: The Ache of Marriage
two by two in the ark of
the ache of it
Judith Sanders: Autumn Walk at Beechwood Farms
You said, Name the world.
So I said, I call this a spangle tree.
How about, you said, a rose-hued spangle tree.
That’s beautiful, I said.
Let’s name the world together.
Michael Simms: A Few Thoughts from a Cowboy Vegan
I grew up in Texas beef country down the street from a world-famous barbecue stand. I didn’t become a vegan until I was 54 years old. I probably have been responsible, at least in part, for the death of 10,000 animals. It’s never too late to change your life.
Peter Makuck: Two Poems
Every summer day was the last I thought,
even before my parents were gone
