Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Peter Schireson: Hinge

We hold her X-ray
up to the light—

September 19, 2019 · Leave a comment

Paul Christensen: Summer’s End

Summer is like old gold, dark with age. You feel its strength become mellow and pliable in the soft breezes. There is wisdom in the heat that still simmers along the edges of noon, as if it were trying to tell us that illness or aging are as natural as drawing breath.

September 8, 2019 · 1 Comment

Paul Christensen: The Dregs of October

I’m staring out of a large window onto a stone wall where an ancient grape vine hangs heavy with bunches of blue grapes. There’s no one to cut down these … Continue reading

October 28, 2018 · Leave a comment

John Keats: To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To … Continue reading

October 26, 2018 · Leave a comment

Paul Christensen: After the Equinox

It’s fall here in southern France. The tourists have thinned out to a trickle of rubbernecks aiming their smart phones at almost anything green or shaggy with vines. They hardly … Continue reading

October 7, 2018 · Leave a comment

Deborah Bogen: October

A train pulls into the station. Passengers break like billiard balls, glide to cars and uses. Ezekiel the pushcart vendor hawks his hot potatoes. This is the month of the … Continue reading

October 3, 2018 · Leave a comment

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