Last night we took a friend for a walk along the edge
of our mountain. She looked out
over the city, the rivers, the sultry slopes
crowded with sumac and maple
and said So you know where you live
The young man and the older woman met at an artist’s colony. They were both in the habit of walking on the wooded paths in the afternoon, so they began … Continue reading →
I’m not prepared to measure grief
like grains of darkness
A poem is rooted in the rhythms of pulse, breath and movement.
I hope you don’t mind my sharing links to my own recent publications.
rock the baby in our arms
so mom can sleep in the next room,
hours sliding by like gentle ghosts
The scarecrow watched over
His congregation, even as wind
And storms tore at his clothes
And the crows grew to know
His indecisive guardianship
Although Pittsburgh is home to a number of major museums and art galleries, the region’s streets often tempt residents to create their own art.
After churning all night
I wake to see the sun star
In the window, its perfect
Blossoms full of light
Here, 500 miles away
Smoke hangs over our valley
Here I want to call attention to three mature poets who have done extraordinary work, but have not, in my opinion, received the attention they deserve, and in the process explore different ways one can be an “outsider” in the poetry field.
Dear beautiful people: You may have noticed that in the last few weeks some of Vox Populi’s posts go out to you as blank pages. Actually, the color of the … Continue reading →
Michael Chabon hasn’t so much straddled genres as rejuvenated whatever he touches, making literary fiction more engaging and accessible and popular genres less cliched and formulaic.
Vox Populi will endure, albeit at a slower pace.