Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Sandra Lubarsky: Speak the Name of Beauty

So beneficial is exposure to the natural world that a new global movement has arisen to declare access to nature a human right.

August 6, 2019 · Leave a comment

Naomi Shihab Nye: Trees Gossip with the Birds

When the orange sun sinks over the AZIZI sign I feel
the darkening world soaking up all the extra noise

July 17, 2019 · Leave a comment

John Clare: Summer

I’ll lean upon her breast and I’ll whisper in her ear
That I cannot get a wink o’sleep for thinking of my dear;
I hunger at my meat and I daily fade away
Like the hedge rose that is broken in the heat of the day.

June 28, 2019 · Leave a comment

John Clare: The Badger

The badger grunting on his woodland track
With shaggy hide and sharp nose scrowed with black
Roots in the bushes and the woods, and makes
A great high burrow in the ferns and brakes.

May 31, 2019 · Leave a comment

Josephine Dickinson: Seven Dimple Cushions

Andrew tells us . there will be . all the usual . English songbirds . bluetits . robins . blackbirds . and the rest . but also . a backdrop . of seabirds . which is unique . and there will be . a sense of space

May 22, 2019 · Leave a 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

James Wright: To a Blossoming Pear Tree

Beautiful natural blossoms,
Pure delicate body,
You stand without trembling.
Little mist of fallen starlight,
Perfect, beyond my reach

April 28, 2019 · 2 Comments

Charlotte Turner Smith: On Being Cautioned Against Walking on an Headland Overlooking the Sea, Because It Was Frequented by a Lunatic

In moody sadness, on the giddy brink,
I see him more with envy than fear

April 19, 2019 · 1 Comment

Josephine Dickinson: 6018

At Hartford Connecticut a man steps out on the tarmac, one foot in front of the other, as the plane begins to move. Above Hartford a wooded hilly landscape, a … Continue reading

April 17, 2019 · 1 Comment

Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Ode to the Schorren

& their skin-thin silt the Scheldt ground down from rocks, slopes & swamps — a rainy-day-gray mud,  that satin muck that slips through fingers &  escapes toward the insatiable North … Continue reading

April 15, 2019 · Leave a comment

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

Video: Weather Words

“Words act as compass,” Robert Macfarlane suggests, “place speech serves literally to enchant the land; to sing it back into being and to sing one’s being back into it.”

February 9, 2019 · Leave a comment

Judith A. Brice: Before the Terns

It’s always the waves I hear, the lapping of the lake at Walloon— perhaps the first sound my young memory held, before the kingfishers’, the terns’ bolting splash to grab … Continue reading

January 28, 2019 · Leave a comment

Michael Simms: The Garden and the Drone

We come to the garden because it is beautiful. Arborvitae, hydrangea, anemone— Even the names are beautiful. . The men who call themselves our leaders Seem far away. We feel … Continue reading

August 5, 2018 · 11 Comments

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