Poetry | The Walrus

Poetry

After You

July 23, 2021 - by Brian Wickers

After you left / us, I was left / feeling you’d leapt / through a door swept

The legs of two people, both reading and reclining on beach chairs, are in the foreground. They are facing a lake and trees with a bright sun overhead.

Fiction / Poetry

Summer Reading 2021

July 2, 2021July 4, 2021 - by The Walrus Staff

New fiction and poetry for the times we live in

Photo of poet Armand Garnet Ruffo with orange background

July/August 2021 / Poetry

Observed and Observing, That’s Him

July 2, 2021June 29, 2021 - by Armand Garnet Ruffo

From his vantage, he has a bird’s eye view / and he can see they are doing their best / to ignore the dark sky

July/August 2021 / Poetry

Spirit at Summer’s End

June 18, 2021 - by Roo Borson

At any given moment / something rare and exact / will have happened here

July/August 2021 / Poetry

Dream Fragment

June 11, 2021June 15, 2021 - by Steven Heighton

Who among us up here / wouldn’t want his love, her love / to carry a trace that clear

Poetry

Three Poems

June 4, 2021June 3, 2021 - by Susan Swan

A series of new poems by Susan Swan

June 2021 / Poetry

Revising the Will

May 27, 2021May 27, 2021 - by Brian Bartlett

Clients’ eyes are often drawn to the expanse— / all those miniaturized tugboats, minesweepers, / frigates, and cruise ships

June 2021 / Poetry

After Life

May 20, 2021 - by Jenny Boychuk

Memory slithers, wicked. Its demands make / birds fly jagged into the false mouths of trees

Black and white photo of Ricardo Sternberg on an orange background.

Poetry

Question and Answer

May 7, 2021 - by Ricardo Sternberg

When she left, / then returned, / a determined look / on her wet face, / he assumed she’d / come to retrieve / something forgotten

May 2021 / Poetry

Asymmetry

April 23, 2021 - by Andreae Callanan

The next-to-smallest finger of my left hand, / embedding my ring in its bulging flesh, / a fat tree swallowing a chain-link fence