Vermont Living Magazine presents Poems, Poetry and Verse. Selected poems and creative written material. The written word and spoken verse can evoke a multitude of thought and emotion. If you have written some verse, word, poem, or creative short story you would like to share, please send it to us. Vermont Living prefers material that evoke pleasurable thoughts and emotions. Help spread the love. Submit stories, or poems, submit photos, or relax and read some interesting original poetry, short story, or verse below. Thank you for visiting.

Poems - Short Stories - Poetry

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Special thanks to Tanya McIntyre for this contribution.

Weathervane

at the edge of the field the house
barn and sheds behind
window glass divided in 12 squares
shutters long since lost
clapboards the colour of goldenrod
before it's gone to seed
hollyhocks against barn boards
to the south

floorboards sawn from the pines
northwest the swamp of cedars
door with the latch to the cellar
between the door to the hall and the door
to the room where you were born

cellar cupboard holds pickles
no one dares to eat
shed chamber stairs and things
that were once part of something
you have to walk on
to get to the window
where a spider the size of a saucer wraps up a horsefly

door of the front bedroom closet
won't stay shut through the night
though I drive a nail into the casing
and bend it back around
sound of the poker reaming the stove
but there's no one in the kitchen

trapdoor that leads to nothing
at the end of the dooryard
by the hedge where you fed corn to crows
the massey-harris shines
like an apple on a stick at the fair
and the clevis pin and the wagon
with the moth eaten cushion
from the chesterfield

late afternoon sun
between the boards of the haymow
there are no calves in the pen
the hay rake rusts by the blackberry bush
water troughs no longer fill
weathervane says wind blows northeast

across the road by the pond
damselflies like sapphire matchsticks
circle around my head
cowslips grow between tufts of grass
in the brook where hooves have been
to the west hedgerow trees
silhouettes to the sun that sets
nowhere is the sky so high

I had the dream again last night
I dreamed I'd said the word
you had asked
and I had answered
I was coming back
home to you

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