Jeff Epton's Outdoor Poetry Season

You go with the push of irregular winds, with sun a brilliance and a sorrow, with a drifting of old friends and a sprouting of new.   You go...

And, also, J’accuse   i  read about her a teacher at Marjorie Stoneman Douglas who watched helplessly as two students died in a spatter and ...

You are the girliest girl I know. I say so knowing you to be a woman of deeds, of experience, a woman possessed of a gaze and a touch that h...

  They cannot ban what they do not understand. Speak not of Zuckerbergs and Musks and others slithering through the muck. Let them suffer in...

  The old get-up get-down lost the beat, the run-start run-stop sticks on stop, the go-quick gear lost its teeth, and the locks on the Urina...

  Apropos of Ida Momennejad and those pillars of abundance, I am not yet a friend of the trees, but I find myself ready to listen.

  When one gets steam-rolled, as many of us were the Tuesday before last, one gets back up, dusts oneself off, hugs family and community, an...

Alive and quick, my feet in my shoes, walking my way, wiggling my toes, feeling the earth with my soles, wondering when   voyaging through t...

You know the song “you’re still the one,” the song that couples time and love, and begins a weaving of memory and the particular rhythm that...

A poem about the blood that soaks our land is not about who spilled the most— though it should be clear who spilled the least, who took so m...

ever the feeling ever feeling no need of any sort no need for more no need for some no need at all for any one thing   is this  a blessed st...

The sheer impact of what we have done cannot be undone.   We cannot take it apart. We can bend it, but not break it.   We can fix a piece, t...

Rumored or written somewhere, the way, the path, to touching uncoerced, to flowing swiftly, through channels forking and twisting and babbli...

The poems always come unbidden. I could hunt for them, but don’t know where to look.   But this one, not merely unbidden, but buried in sequ...

Deep in the grave, blind in the gloom, a spasm of wishes, an eruption of dreams, a pounding and hammering and gathering of earth.   Clawing ...

  The sheer impact of what we have done cannot be undone.   We cannot take it apart. We can bend it, maybe, but not break it.   We can fix a...

Waiting for Izzy to wake, my baby grand, my Izzy Bizzy Bell. I should head to Chicago, move on to next things. There’s stuff to do, and I, m...

The edge of silence haunts me, listening here, where there is still song and rhythm and echoes and noise, sounding and resounding.   It woul...

The voice, her voice, repeating, I have to hang up. We’re about to take off. They want me to hang up. We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?   I imagine...

In an epoch of nightmares, the walk to the lake, transformed by mood and by moment, planned as a journey with Jetta, to proceed from Caracol...

Isabel, hey, Isabel, I am Jeff.   Been that way for the longest time, but now, of a sudden, I am Isabel’s Jeff.   Not brand new, at all, but...