Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Miriam Levine: Surfer at Wellfleet

It’s freezing
in the afterglow when he finally rises on his one long ride home.

July 25, 2020 · 3 Comments

Miriam Levine: Invisible Kisses

And survivors with numbers tattooed on their arms, straight as a
bookkeeper’s sum,
the ink indelibly blue, unlike the blessedly changing ocean.

July 1, 2020 · 1 Comment

Miriam Levine: Daylight Savings

There’s more light than anyone would need.
At six o’clock the sky is bright.
I have my friend’s last poem to read.

March 4, 2020 · 1 Comment

Miriam Levine: Candlewood

We go into the dark and the dark opens.
Boats tipped with light and moon on the water.

December 9, 2019 · Leave a comment

Miriam Levine: Beauty Secrets of the Dead

Jen who never read anything
but bills and Sunday papers
comes back from the dead educated.

October 19, 2019 · 2 Comments

Miriam Levine: On the Steps of the Miami Beach Cinematheque

Soon I’d be eighty. My hip ached,
the thumb he kissed bent with arthritis.
His scent was lime, and the nape
of his neck smooth as summer jade.

July 20, 2019 · 5 Comments

Enter your email address to follow Vox Populi and receive new posts by email.

Join 11,885 other followers

Blog Stats

  • 4,217,208 hits

Archives