Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Molly Fisk: That Kind of Woman

We try them on as subjects, our mythical forebears,
wondering who we are: Penelope. Persephone. Eve.
Eurydice. Sleeping Beauty, Cassandra, Ophelia, Cinderella.
Barbie.

August 12, 2019 · 2 Comments

Molly Fisk: The Fox Laughs at the Hounds

voices chorusing woods and fields, ringing
off the stone walls she runs beside, light
and fleet, silent as new snow falling through

July 3, 2019 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Orion Over Burning Man

Last night at dusk a log cabin rumbled past,
front porch with three rockers, gable window.

May 29, 2019 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: Peace

One of those days when the grain of a wooden table
seems more certain, as if ordained, when gravity feels
like praise

May 8, 2019 · 2 Comments

Molly Fisk: Singing Canyon Sonnet

I have to say something about the blue grasses by the side of the road,  the red rock rising behind them, a lacy kind of scrub juniper,  yellow-green in afternoon … Continue reading

March 27, 2019 · Leave a comment

Lauren Camp: Exposure

After Ansel Adams’ “Moonrise Over Hernandez, New Mexico 1941″

February 4, 2019 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Desolation :: Reservation

Thousands of acres of parched ground. Dead sage, scattered shacks made from tin and rescued plywood, burned-out single-wides, pick-ups rusting in place where their engines stopped. No sign of life … Continue reading

November 26, 2018 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: Summer Lightning

In the morning while it’s still cool we hose down the yard, watch a red sun crest the ridge, haloed in wildfire smoke   that drifted 200 miles and stalled … Continue reading

September 10, 2018 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Cancer, again

this time a slow- growing rarity tracing delicate tendrils through kidney and liver, the lung’s sturdy wall, artery somewhere I can’t remember, though twice I’ve been told. How the mind … Continue reading

July 18, 2018 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Yesterday a young man called me sweetheart and then widened his eyes and asked “Is that OK, to call you sweetheart? I call everyone I like sweetheart, even the men.” … Continue reading

June 2, 2018 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Nine Short Lives

One of my cats just jumped to the floor from the bathroom sink, where he’d been sipping drops of leftover water, and made a very loud thump. I looked up … Continue reading

May 16, 2018 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: National Politics

Even though we watch every year as the snow melts and runs along ditches and gutters, finds the low places, enters the creeks and the culverts, fanning out wider to … Continue reading

March 21, 2018 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: An Apiary Has Nothing to Do with Apes

One of the things I’m good at is linking people together. Not match-making,  although two couples have married who fell in love during my poetry class. Usually it’s more practical: … Continue reading

March 12, 2018 · 2 Comments

Molly Fisk: Heading home

ducking under the last heart-shaped yellow birch leaves, past the mottled white bark, stepping lightly off the curb over a stream of this year’s first real rain as it scours … Continue reading

February 26, 2018 · Leave a comment

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