Barbara van der Vossen’s most recent poem to appear here was “Two Fish” (July 2017)

Salt and Dragons
By Barbara van der Vossen

Weekly I drive the raised highway

past the city where salt peaks

lie like Western mountains of grit

along Baltimore harbor old and infused

with spoiled evidence of a town’s history

recently spit-shined to make anew

Mountains like week old snow

admired pristine then sooted and smeared

I like my treasures tarnished

rust where hinges were bent

and I don’t want any polish

for old carved runes in journals

bound by locks that take a little smashing

One day we’ll get tired and maybe

you won’t bend under my furrowed brow

and I won’t break under yours

We’ll churn now and then

bubble like discarded Chesapeake foam

that collects in dock corners offensive

to visitors who look past pointing

paddling fast and traveling slow

colorful dragon little boaties

But your beast rose from the stone

of this town and mine rolled in with the fog

Unharnessed and prehistoric