By John Bargowski
Featured art by Kieran Osborn
You know the spot, that sharp left off
the county road to Hope
that passes the roadside shrine
her classmates built to our
youngest,
the blank stones that mark the old
Presbyterian graveyard,
then on past the last rusted knob
of safety rail
where a graveled lane cuts through
swampy woods.
The pair of wood drake decoys
Hubert anchored to the bottom
riding out every weather on the big pond,
the splotch of white on their sides
that catches in our high beams
as we round the curve.
The twiggy wrack of alder and sumac
clipping the sideviews
as we pass through streaks of moonlight
burnishing the shields
John Bargowski is the recipient of fellowships from the NEA and New Jersey Council on the Arts. His poems have appeared in The Gettysburg Review, Prairie Schooner, Alaska Quarterly Review, New Letters, Poetry, and Ploughshares, among other publications. His book Driving West on the Pulaski Skyway was selected by Paul Mariani for the Bordighera Prize and published in 2012.
