Midair

Susannah Lodge-Rigal

Again, the sun breaks itself
   on high branches

on high branches
   the world-over

The oak-full woods appear
   Without warning

cowbirds prick the blue until
   they too are sewn

to the smalling distant
   I slow around

sad at my own surprise
   Pretend every gone thing

singing still—pretend
   this is how I learn to be

Memory makes a you & if
   you stay let us be

softer with each other
   I remember

you quieted through Indiana
   woods to look—the birds

look—their blue-
   deep sending—their long-

meant empty No matter
   my trying the wanting’s

bent—again, we’ll sing
   the air the air

from Issue 29.2


SUSANNAH LODGE-RIGAL is an MFA candidate at Colorado State University, where she serves as the graduate advisor for the Greyrock Review. Her poems have appeared previously in Colorado Review, Timber, and elsewhere.