Poems
Contributors
Authors
Translators
Archive
Plume Issues
The Poets and Translators Speak
Featured Selection
Book Reviews
Essays and Comment
Interviews
Newsletters
Station To Station
Anthologies
About
History and Mission
Staff
Submissions
Menu
ENTER A SUBMISSION TO PLUME
Poems
Contributors
Authors
Translators
Archive
Plume Issues
The Poets and Translators Speak
Featured Selection
Book Reviews
Essays and Comment
Interviews
Newsletters
Station To Station
Anthologies
About
History and Mission
Staff
Submissions
Search
Poems
Sort By:
Date
Title
First Line
Random
Index
Unfinished Business
Cleaning up, in the kitchen, she goes to wipe away a small black seed from the counter.
Lydia Davis
Petrarch’s Poem 269, from Rerum vulgarium fragmenta, translated from Italian by Lee Harlin Bahan
The high column and the green laurel
Francesco Petrarca
Two Poems
Sometimes the mist our mothers walk through
Sara London
Still Life with Clouds and Eyes on the Prize
Many white ones
Billy Collins
SAY
Says her Tarot reader says
Rae Armantrout
A Flash of Lithe White Arms
A flash of lithe white arms
Garret Keizer
Hymn of the Squirrels, Echidna Tremens and Singled Out
Not an issue of ‘variety’, of red, brown, grey and black,
John Kinsella
Little Torch
First there was delight, delight in the windchimes,
Katie Ford
The Bahá’í School
It stood at the top of a steep hill that sloped all the way down to the Pisquataqua River, which even then I knew was tidal.
Lindsay Stuart Hill
grief being a swatch of blue & grief being that song from childhood & grief being a pitched tent
a rectangle in an unborn son’s room
Nicole Callihan
Weather Report
These white stripes of day achieve
Grace Cavalieri
Afterimage
Do you remember those Cornell shadow boxes we saw at some
Frances Richey
Previous
1
...
126
127
128
129
130
...
175
Next