Leaving the Cottage
By Margaret Emerson
Out the window
time slows gracefully
slanted autumn light
waltzes across the yard
Fewer bird species gather
at the feeder or wall
seeded by David
every sunrise
before biking
to coffee
blueberry muffin
USA Today
Days shorter
less to do
visitors thinning
clothes thickening
In spite of the...
The Emergence of Fall
By the Supportive Daycare Program
Summer and its nice warm days leave —
Cool, crisp days of fall arrive
Deep blue skies of October,
Crispness
Apples, falling leaves
Halloween is coming.
Dad says, "Let's get a pumpkin!"
Apple cider — the smell...
Poet’s Corner
in a wood / where nobody goes
By Jill Jupen
in a wood / where nobody goes*
You will come
to it
(to borrow
a phrase).
You can do something
forever.
I did it once.
I mean,
that happens.
The Archbishop
of Anarchy.
The poet
and what he has...
Emulating the Bodhisattva
By Lee H. McCormack
To have nothing, or desire it to be, or to be in a place
where nothing is, is the game of blind old monks.
How some friends and family come
to a similar...
O Lantern of Jack
By Linda Freedman
The pumpkins are now waiting to be picked
Big and orange and very round and thick
Thinking of Linus in his pumpkin patch
Carving and scooping and lighting the match
With its glow and scary grin
Waiting...
Poet’s Corner
The Derby
Fickle flock fled far
Beaches beckon bare
Locals liberate
Balmy breezes blare
Boats becalm before
Solar silence sates
Fated fish fend free
Anxious angler awaits
Harbor hut hues hope
Seashore surf sublime
Rods refreshly real
Down to derby time!
— Rachel Alpert
Rachel Alpert is a...
Poet’s Corner: Home to Martha’s Vineyard
By Margaret Emerson
a twenty-five blow
gusting to forty
cancels five ferries
terminal flags snap
against murky
winter sky
still we drive to dockside
park in row two
watch the great iron carrier
force through the channel
then open mouth wide
to roll out her holdings
never...
The Eclipse: A Vineyard Tale
By Judith A. Garan, Ph.D.
A Vineyard Tale that is true
If it can be told by you.
Truth to find in what you do,
This Vineyard Tale is a puzzle too!
To look to the sky
On earth the...
Poet’s Corner: Just Sweet Enough
By Kristen G. Norman
If your life
Had been
A full pie — native berry
Or even
A spongy cake
It was
Cut in half
Yet, that life was full
Have to remember
Such; and recall it
Sweet native berry,
Delightful one
Sure glad...
Poet’s Corner: The News
By Jeffrey Agnoli
The river of News
that we enter daily
maddens and saddens
but as its waters swim through us
can sometimes gladden.
There are random flowers of
kindness and sacrifice and benevolence
(nothing, of course, is really random)
blooming everywhere
across Fear's...
Poets corner: Whimsy
By Jim Lowell
The Turnabouts are flying in a breeze,
Tacking their way to listless moorings.
My son is at the tiller of his youth,
Racing Whimsy past imagined rivals.
The sense of fall is on the water...
Poet’s Corner: Small Craft Warning
By James Lowell
Gust knocks are gathering for a blow
where boats tug at their moorings, gulls
become sea hawks in the upwell. I hold
the suicide knob on my Edson wheel
of my Everglades, heading to my piling...
Poet’s Corner
The Window
By Jill Jupen
The window in the old
house looked out and saw
everything the window had ever seen.
The day the wind blew down
the poplar the window loved
to watch, the poplar whose leaves
danced like silver coins...
Poet's Corner
The Poet’s Cauldron
By Lenny Hall
A sea soup of letters
Hard boiled into inky symbols
Apothic magical work sorcery
A sensory amalgam of mind-altering fare
The porridge of emotions
Spells and potions
The black magic of human thoughts
Melodic pharmacology
Stirring — whirling...
Poet’s Corner: Real March Madness
By Elaine Boettcher
The cold and bitter winds of March
encased in ice the cherry blossoms
snapped the wildly waving limbs
of black and brittle trees,
hurled shingles from the trembling shed,
smack-crashed the kitchen window
Listen to its moans and...
Poet's Corner
Crows Gather Each Morning like Cambodian Elders
By Jill Jupen
Early each morning
the crows
gather around
and take turns
cawing at each other
like the Cambodian refugees
used to gather
in a tiny Vermont village
squatting in a semicircle
cawing loudly in turn
discussing the...
Poet's Corner
Attic dreams
By Jo Scotford Rice
I long for the attics in my dreams,
the ones above the stairs,
to the right
and up through the trapdoor
in the ceiling of the closet
where all of Aunt Edith’s dresses are
and all...
Poet's Corner
San Miguel
By John Eisner
what convergence of wind, blood
and dust has formed almost in
my image and settled here
what ancient ritual of sorrowful
beauty and exquisite pain reflected
in this molten sky am I here
to witness
like a grand...
8 December, 1980
By Jill Jupen
We lived on a dirt road that year
surrounded by Jersey cows,
beauty, and snow. Unimaginable
snow for the start of December.
The baby was five months old,
the best age until the next
best age came along.
You...
Poet's Corner: Tuesday’s Child
By Rob Burnside
There's a large lady blocking the Poetry/Literature aisle
at my favorite bookstore. She's standing square across
the thoroughfare, reading intently, looking very much
like my 10th grade English teacher when he was
about to recite Keats...