Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature: over 400,000 monthly users

Michael Simms: Portrait of Unknown Couple

He sketched in charcoal
the arch of a shoulder
the movement of a hand
the woman’s head
turned and tilted slightly
toward the man

September 24, 2022 · 8 Comments

Robert Frost: Provide, Provide

The witch that came (the withered hag)
To wash the steps with pail and rag
Was once the beauty Abishag,
The picture pride of Hollywood.

September 23, 2022 · 2 Comments

Louise Hawes: My muse at seventy-something

My muse is fast; her legs, long, relentless,
churn like propellers. She seldom stops to
explain where we’re going.

September 17, 2022 · 14 Comments

Barbara Hamby: Letter to a Lost Friend

There must be a Russian word to describe what has happened
between us, like ostyt, which can be used
for a cup of  tea that is too hot, but after you walk to the next room,
and return, it is too cool

September 12, 2022 · 2 Comments

Paul Christensen: The First Chill Air of Summer’s End

The village bar is still serving lunch on the weekends, which is welcomed by us as a way of entertaining without having to cook the food, lay in some bottles of wine, find a dessert or make our own pastries. We just come in, sit on the terrace, order whatever is the main dish of the day, and slurp some cold rose or white wine while we amiably chat with our invited friends.

September 11, 2022 · 10 Comments

Tom Engelhardt: The Decline and Fall of Everything (Including Me)

I find myself experiencing three versions of that ultimate story: that of my own fall; that of my country; and that of an increasingly overheating planet as a habitable place for us all.

August 15, 2022 · 3 Comments

John Lawson: Two Dreams

She is one of that generation the heroes fought
And died for, inheritors of prim suburban homes
Purchased by the drowned

July 26, 2022 · Leave a comment

Doug Anderson: What if I wrote a poem

About being seventy-seven
and trying not
to speculate how long I’ve got left

July 5, 2022 · 13 Comments

Rachel Hadas: Little Free Library, Turner’s Falls

Crones do not whine: agreed.
But pain’s a constant, and the need
to let it out, give it a name
shouldn’t be a source of shame.

July 3, 2022 · 4 Comments

Robert Walicki: The Ride

I thought my grandmother was a badass
after arm wrestling me for a pack of Swedish fish.

June 9, 2022 · 2 Comments

Jim Daniels: Strawberry

the final time I saw my mother
she was trying to find
the last strawberry on her plate

May 8, 2022 · 2 Comments

Alison Luterman: At the Jeweler’s Tent

I hold a string of amethysts up to my collarbone.
There are wrinkles on my neck now,
rings of crinkled flesh like tree-markings,
one for each lived year

April 13, 2022 · 6 Comments

Skye C. Cleary: Simone de Beauvoir recommends we fight for ourselves as we age

Elderhood is an opportunity to turn to ourselves, to be more responsive to our own needs, and less obliged to other people.

March 24, 2022 · 1 Comment

Dawn Potter: Now that I’m old

now that I don’t have sex every night or carry two fat boys,
one on each hip, up small mountains,
I have to go to exercise class

March 7, 2022 · 4 Comments

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