Letter to the editor: Why not take Now for what it is?

This is Now./ Of all of the moments in my entire life,/ This is the only one that is Now.

Poetry: For the sake of peace

May prejudice dissolve into fine burgundy wine,/ Making us drunk, instead, on respectfulness.

This month in poetry: To drive the fields of heaven

‏I was driving through the fields of Heaven when I realized I was still on Earth,
because Earth was all I had ever known of Heaven and no other place would do
for living forever.

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.”

Learn about the life of a poet

Former Middlebury resident Susan Jefts has published a new book of poetry, “Breathing Lessons,” put out by Shanti Arts.

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.

Poet’s corner: At the garden gate

“The roof has come off the church/ and rain is falling in the baptistry.”

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.

Book review: ‘Walk With Me’ by Madeleine Kunin

In the scope of her book, Kunin is not simply taking us on a journey of language, but holds our hand as we crawl into a soft, cushioned space of the poet’s authenticity and vulnerability.

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…

Poet’s corner: Most of the time…

Most of the time the dark waters will rise,/ then fall into sun and birdsong, everything/ glistening, vivid as broken glass in fresh mud…

Letter to the editor: A poetic rejoinder to the Mead Chapel controversy

Swooping down, a righteous vulture/ Points his talons at “Cancel Culture”/ Enough! he squawks, leave the pastard be/ Let wrongs live on in history…

Poetry: The substance of things hoped for

The Rose of Sharon/ and the Trumpet Vine/ are always the last to leaf out./ Everything else is green —/ has been since the end of April.

Poetry: Without retiring

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

Poet’s Corner: How light travels

I was going to explain why I’m repelled by children/ who have been taught to say all the right things/ about Edward Hopper’s night café—some paintings/ need to be earned and this is one of them— but here,/ instead, are three stanzas about Iceland.

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