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
Angles | Bad News
The master speaks to a tree.
Pamela Alexander
Great Pond
Tom swims
Andrea Cohen
The Invention of Everyday Life
A few days later Pierre arrived.
Lawrence Raab
Downsizing
Hey, maybe the time has come to empty
Amy Gerstler
Medieval Notation and Mercy
On the first half of our hike the snow
Didi Jackson
Petrarch’s Poem 269, from Rerum vulgarium fragmenta, translated from Italian by Lee Harlin Bahan
The high column and the green laurel
Francesco Petrarca
It’s 3 A.M., Winter, and Nine Miles from Truckee
and nobody better than I to tell you about
Suzanne Lummis
Oak Leaves as Young Musicians and Longing
Frosted-glass window lit orange.
Ashley Mabbitt
The Last Time I Saw My Mother Before the Pandemic, #Me Too & Ready
was on Valentine’s Day 2020. The residents who were able to sit up
Denise Duhamel
The Child and I
I wanted to go fishing one day,
Martinus Nijhoff
Two Stages
The traveler was certainly sleep-logged when he slipped away from his hotel at sunrise
Yves Bonnefoy
Swan Song
I admit. In the beginning
Alice Friman
Previous
1
...
129
130
131
132
133
...
181
Next