Vivienne Popperl

4 years ago

Spessart Forest Near Fulda, 1977 --with a line drawn from Charles Swinbourne (Hendecasyllabics) Last night I dreamed Hansel and Gretal…

Marjorie Power

4 years ago

--after rereading "Saying Your Name Three Times Underwater" by Sam Roxas-Chua If, After the Collapse of Africa’s last elephant, I…

Tom Sexton

4 years ago

On the Death of Seamus Heaney He is crossing those four green fields now. On the horizon, blossoms falling like…

Meghan Sterling

4 years ago

Scar Willing herself steel on the tenement rooftop where the pigeons roosted and ate crumbs from her hands, near dusk…

Doug Stone

4 years ago

On That Moonless Autumn Night Listening to Wallace Stevens Reading “The Idea of Order At Key West” It may be…

Lynda Wilde

4 years ago

I am Nobody! Who are You? --to Emily Dickinson, in her own words… Recluse, they said, watching a fly buzz…

Ellen June Wright

4 years ago

In Praise of Those Winter Sundays I thought this is a black poem and then I thought no this is…

Back Page with Babette Barton

4 years ago

Babette Barton is an emerging artist who lives at the edge of the woods in the uppermost reaches of the…

About Poet Laureate Tom Sexton

4 years ago

Tom Sexton was born in Lowell, Massachusetts, and lived in the city through his high school years. He earned degrees…

On the Death of Seamus Heaney

4 years ago

He is crossing those four green fields now. On the horizon, blossoms falling like snow. A chorus calls his name.…