Events
Poetry Foundation
Poetry and portraiture provide a rare view into contemporary Mexican American women’s equestrian performance in this exhibition.
Theme
Poetry & Nature
Poetry about the environment and natural world, including poems about seasons, animals, and climate change, as well as traditions like pastoral poetry and ecopoetry.
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- PoemBy Ada LimónOn my way to the fertility clinic,
I pass five dead animals.
First a raccoon with all four paws… - PoemBy Alice OswaldIt's a rush, a sploosh of sewage, twenty thousand cubic metres being pumped in, stirred and settled …
- PoemBy Andrew FrisardiThe city lies back in its winding-sheet
While little digits drum a steady beat
On roofs and terraces, … - PoemBy William OlsenObservation isn’t serious play. It is living serious. Same heron. It’s used to us, we are as twilight…
- PoemBy Don Domanski*
clouds creak in the sky
herons creak in the sky.
*
the dark approaches itself
from all sides once again… - PoemBy Maya KhoslaWater minus air becomes wound.
Her blowhole, bursts of breathing,
trapped in an endless curtain of netting… - Glossary TermsClassically, an idyll is a pastoral poem about shepherds. In more contemporary contexts, an idyll is often seen as similar to a pastoral or descriptive poem depicting a peaceful, idealized, rural scene or setting. It often celebrates the beauty of nature, rural life, and the harmony that can be found between people and the natural world. Idylls typically evoke a sense of tranquility and nostalgia, as well as a longing for a simpler, rural way of life.Well-known historical examples of the idyll include…
- Events-VirtualA discussion and creative workshop on necropastoral poetry.
- PoemBy Angela BallI am drinking a tree. Not exactly.
Not as exactly as the branches
lay, self-sectioned, over the round space
they had shaded, till workers
piled them at the curb. Not as exactly
as I planted it, seventeen years
past. A fig. The map
of its leaf. Before... - PoemBy Erin BelieuMorning thick with inscrutable dinge;
another season drained. I’m watching
the pest control man fill the rat bait
station, black attaché of poison hidden
in the hedge.
And while I pay a monthly
bill for him to do my killing, still
it seems miraculous, how much insists
on... - PoemBy Campbell McGrath1
A hoard of seashells has appeared offshore this winter,
half-buried alongside smooth rocks and chunked coral,
and I’ve been enjoying myself like a teenager on spring break,
snorkeling for hours, sifting and duck-diving, perusing
the field guide to identify my finds. Noble wentletraps,
pretty little...