Letter to the Editor: There’s irony in football while problems mount

Problems beset our nation, but at least there’s still football.

Vermont Poet Laureate launches new book

What was it like to attend Bianca Stone’s book launch? J.T. Price takes us there…

Celebration of poetry begins in Bristol

Community members are invited to join in on a months-long celebration of poetry kicking off in Bristol this week.

Goodbye to a poet who loved the outdoors

“Luci loved the natural world, and over her life as a poet she practiced what it meant to be attentive.”

Poem: Living in Ripton, Vermont

“Rails/on a sleigh for the ride up to/Bread Loaf. Its rising mountain./ Its writers, porch-rocking, revising/their novels and poems, refusing/to correct a frozen typo.”

Local teen preps for protest

A poem by Abigail Balon, 14, of Panton was published by the Young Writers Project last month.

Poem: Broadway tunes and religious devotion can mix

“Better to donate what we can./Give away our hearts,/Be lifted. Tenor to soprano./The phantoms in our barns,/Love struck in Panton’s stones.”

Poem: “After Class”

A poem in memory of Lia Smith.

Novembering democracy

A poem from Gary Margolis.

Listen: Father and son create new sounds

Cornwall family brings a new kind of sound that’s definitely worth a listen.

Letter to the Editor: Reflecting on Israel and Palestine

“Who wouldn’t want/to be led back to their century/their tent their house of stones?”

Jailed individuals speak through art & poems in Sheldon Museum exhibit

“Finding Hope Within” is a new exhibit at the Henry Sheldon Museum of Vermont History that features a collection of writings and artwork produced by incarcerated men and women in Vermont.

Letter to the editor: Bard is needed to tell story of ‘no clothes’

Where is the woodcutter’s youngest son,/ the poor widow’s clever daughter? Surely/ somewhere there’s an enchanted sword, a prince/ in bear’s clothing, a talking cat, a key/ to a secret door. Isn’t there a lamp?

This month in poetry: In just a few words

In high-summer evening-light four barefoot Amish/ kids bend, pulling weeds from their garden./ My mother looks at them from the car window, smiles/ at the young woman on the porch who holds a baby close.

Poetry: Note to the President

Let me note this morning I came/ across a coin, I thought, crossing/ Tully Road. Once a path for local/ soldiers. Farmers mostly. And nut/ gatherers. Its face looked more like/ a quarter. Washington’s. Until I looked/ more closely. Actually kneeled down.

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