David Higdon
In two days, it is Pentecost.
A minor struggle—the southern
visiting. Summer tanagers
reveal flaws; scored, uncovered
by their melodic units.
Their song kills a gangrenous
field of common skullcaps.
We toss our offspring into
the reservoir but the wake
of a pontoon pushes them back
—to the shattered dock,
the shallow cape, the rockface,
the retaining wall; the promise
of cradles and kinships.
***
David Higdon lives with his family in Louisville, KY. He earned his BFA from Watkins College of Art and Design and is employed as a creative director. He is currently working on a collection of poetry and a novel.