Lament for Bob Dylan by Anne Becker

. . . as if he were holding the sea in his black hands, as if, after giving him all that power, she now could give him pity and consolation . . .

Pergola by Serena Agusto-Cox

I never grew out of cookies and milk I grew in. Someone reflective, not out loud. Even behind the smoke, I saw wheels turn and wondered where had you gone?   Perhaps it was to the...

Patriotism Reconsidered by Lucinda Marshall

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 for map lines delineating...