Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Paul Christensen: Timbrels in the Marsh

The sky is a stoic blue, hard as a marble, with little wimpy clouds that carry nothing more than a few regrets from a dying winter. We’re here, right on the precipice of a season.

March 22, 2020 · 8 Comments

Paul Christensen: When the Ice Won’t Melt

It’s one of those diamond-bright days of early winter, with the ground ringing like iron when you walk on it.

February 6, 2020 · Leave a comment

Paul Christensen: Snow Bound

The snow and the dark wind, the impassable wastes of one’s backyard, the icy draft that leaks in under the front door tell you you have no place to go. You must sit down and allow the slightly old-fashioned language of self to drift in.

January 19, 2020 · 3 Comments

Robert Frost: “Out, Out—”

The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.

October 11, 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

Paul Christensen: January’s Two Faces

Nothing can make the soul shiver more than to look upon those tree-covered slopes with their icy diamonds shimmering on their skin. They are there to remind you that your mortality means nothing to them. They stand for the severity of time, the rules of the universe that have nothing to do with our petty lives.

January 13, 2019 · 1 Comment

Paul Christensen: The First Snowfall

The first snow of winter here in central Vermont has now fallen. It came late this year, late by several months, according to the TV weather watchers. I’m glad it … Continue reading

January 7, 2016 · 28 Comments

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