Poetry

In August heat, the urge to be misplaced can find you standing on the sidewalk, disoriented, holding someone else’s photos by mistake. Trying to place that cottage, that sandy porch. Before...

Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving My mother framed the Rockwell painting. That image of matriarch in white apron setting down white platter with turkey large enough to feed all the smiling faces at the...

Ed. Note: Another in our series of poems from poets who participated in Arlington Writers Resist on January 15, 2017 —for the parents of the children at Sandy...

Night Sky with Donald Trump If I put him beneath a sky full of stars, stood him without phone or tablet, landline or screen, broke his connection with the vast Twitterverse to which...

My Ancestors My ancestors picked cotton Worked hard stacked brick by brick The old say the young Just scroll the mouse Facebook Instagram and click They call them the instant Microwave generation Smoke some marijuana Now...