Emily Dickinson, “As willing lid o’er weary eye” (1050)
Lately, I have not been looking at nature too closely. It feels a blur of bugs and heat, an encompassing disorder I must move through. At this moment, though, I...
Category: poetry
Graham Foust, “The Only Poem”
One of the tasks of political philosophy, I imagine, is accounting for how it is possible for an entire people to be in denial. Emphasis must be placed on ̶...
Jane Kenyon, “Not Writing”
For a number of us, quarantine entails meeting our insecurities and rediscovering our weaknesses. This isn’t to say that getting attention constantly is a...
Jane Kenyon, “Otherwise”
At home, trapped in social distancing—a sort of self-quarantine—while the pandemic rages. Lots to do. Lots to clean and organize, lots to read, lots of dreams a...
Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach, “Afraid Ancestral”
Panic is learned, I believe. It could be natural. Maybe humanity has an instinct to fear the unfamiliar. —Still, there are babies radiating brightness, trying t...