Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Sydney Lea: Sunday Morning

…his left ring finger was hewn at the knuckle quite some years ago.  If I think hard enough, I can remember when he was secretive about that injury. He kept the disfigured hand in his pocket or behind his back as much as he could.

June 6, 2021 · 1 Comment

Wallace Stevens: Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

I Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. II I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. … Continue reading

March 4, 2018 · 2 Comments

Wallace Stevens: The Snow Man

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

January 2, 2018 · 2 Comments

Annie Dillard: The Writing Life

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends … Continue reading

August 9, 2016 · 1 Comment

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