Susan Jefts
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POEM: “The Globe” by Michael Collier
Susan Jefts offers her review of a poem by Cornwall writer Michael Collier.
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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…
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This month in poetry: One of a living crowd
There’s something happening, don’t you think?/ Do you feel it under the brown crusted snow,/ under the wanting to break sky.
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This month in poetry: On the edge of empire
I’m so low on the priority list/ I’m almost trackless./ I don’t use stealth./ I don’t scramble my signals./ I don’t have a double message.
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This month in poetry: The dimming season
I try to see what’s before me, hold close/ the light as the light is, as it makes its/ diminishing way toward Solstice.
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This month in poetry: On the inside of summer
The peony buds swelled for days/ as the ants unfastened the blooms/ now a shower has left them/ lying open in the grass.
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The month in poetry: First findings, first loves
I met you after school/ where you told me you’d be waiting./ Your sweaty fingers encircled my wrist/ pulling me through the thicket and/ as I watched pink…
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The month in poetry: On waking slowly
Eyes closed at first,/ wintering inside the earth,/ black matted fur/ dampness pressing soft eyelids/ shut to outlast frost/ heaving around him.
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The month in poetry: Across the universe
a light sparkles/ a tiny diamond/ from a house/ across the river/ through winter woods/ the other side of town…
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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…
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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.
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Poet’s corner: At the garden gate
“The roof has come off the church/ and rain is falling in the baptistry.”
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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…
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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…
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Poet’s corner: A few small stones
It was twilight all day./ Sometimes the smallest things weigh us down,/ small stones that we can’t help/ admiring and palming.
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Poet’s corner: The fields of Ripton
A Poet, In a Field Near Robert Frost’s Cabin, Lifts Enormous Boulders with his Mind