A Cornwall poem

“I can’t say I don’t look forward to this once-/a-year. When I’ll bump into you, elbow one/of my neighbors. By the history table.”

Poetry: At the vigil

No one could say who they were./ The men at the perimeter./ Why they appeared in uniforms./ Seemed to be wearing badges/ stitched into their shirts./ At this distance five-pointed stars.

Review: Margolis captures simple moments in poetry

As the title implies, the featured collection gives readers Margolis’s understanding of what it means to be happy. However, by no means should this indicate that every single poem will bring a smile to your face.

Poetry: This brave state of Vermont and its residents

Gratitude to all of you for checking-in./ Calling me in the middle of the night,/ to see if I’m not trying to get some sleep,/ sleeping on my roof. The water’s that high/ in some places in my brave state/ of Vermont. Where the rivulets rise…

Poetry: Without retiring

For Peter Lebenbaum and his long service with the Counseling Service of Addison County.

Poetry: Midterms

Here in Cornwall, my small town/ in Vermont, a precinct of deer/ and leaves, I like to think/ Of my neighbors who are likely/ to volunteer for anything. 

Letter to the editor: Snowbird

I don’t know whether to ride/ my mower or push my snow-blower./ Given what April brings to us.

Letter to the editor: Sing, Etzuri — a poem with Ukrainian roots

Like you, I have a name behind/my name./Scratched inside my throat.

Letter to the editor: Columns made point together

Gratitude to the editor for placing Karl Lindholm’s “Taming the Cornwall Bear” Clippings column next to Victor Nuovo’s “Does God Exist?” philosophical column in last Thursday’s edition. How fortunate we Vermonters are to see proof of the Divine in our for … (read more)

Poetry: Cases on campus

What you say you’ve been waiting for. A break from studying. A reprieve from your exams. An excuse from finishing your term papers. To go home. But not this early.

Poetry: Call Richard Webb

Before the wind takes it. Before the voles make a home of it.Or a trunk-borer. Before the orioles weave one nest too many.Or later, in December, the snow weighs heavily for the thundering branchto go under. And looking ahead again to next summer, the tail … (read more)

Poet’s corner: Where moonlight finds you

How Difficult is It?   I wouldn’t have guessed you’d love this form. And take it back into a cell’s darkness. Even the super moon can’t reach you. Unless you dream that light is meant for you. I mean   it’s hard for me to think of so many men, green-suite … (read more)

Poetry: Back to school

For Addison County Teachers and Staff Nothing like the principal seeing you again, after so many months, walking down our school’s stairs. Looking up and saying “You look beautiful.” As if we had been prepping, putting on make-up, in between classes, in o … (read more)

Poem For the Jamaican Apple Pickers

Taken         for the pickers   The apples are used to those men, their hands, their songs. Used to rolling down   their arms into baskets. Into crates. Carted off to the cold, storage house.   This month most of them will drop on their own accord. Twist … (read more)

Poem: Returning to School, To Town

Returning to School, To Town   Across the way, a new pod of tents behind the field house. And a gaggle of orange traffic cones. Set out by Buildings and Grounds   to direct the returning students where to go, where to line-up to be tested without their pa … (read more)