Climb the stairs. Take the call.
Stand by the old green chair.
Don’t sit down.
Hear your mother say
It’s cancer.
Don’t answer right away.
Clamp down your fear
before you...
Ed. Note: Another in our series of poems by writers who participated in Arlington Writers Resist.
My anthem is the serenade of birds,
sung without regard...
Tent
Sometimes in the morning,
before opening my eyes,
I dream of our tent,
that tiny green dome.
From behind its walls
thin as skin, I hear birds,
leaves, a brush...
POULTICEWhen you have looked elsewherefor answers—the spider’s web,the empty hive, the rotted log,beneath the unturned stone—ask yourself what you haveneglected. Do not lamentthat what...
Violin Plays
She holds on tight to bow and strings, yet,it is her body, curving and rounding,on inner caverns that gives musicits beginnings: Soaked in...
