MODJESKA CANYON
–for Petrut

Not the cattails choking, cloaking sound
but the snuffed candle dusk of bat wings

above your head. Not the candle
but the emergence of griddled want

between satellite and stars. There will always
be a snaked bark whose name you

never remember in this canyon.
When you think of love—           do you?

Between here and there, there is a there there
maybe a diner, maybe you see the yellowed

light too. I pray that in old age, we get to shuffle
together, out out. If we are lucky. The best case

scenario. I will never be okay when you leave
and yet—                       I am quiet

because I am praying. Enjoy
this rare hour of golden light. Swear it.

Allie Rigby has roots in the chaparral and deserts of California. She is the author of Moonscape for a Child (Bored Wolves, 2024), and the recent recipient of a Fulbright fellowship to Romania. Her poetry has appeared in Living on Earth Radio, Parentheses Journal, Manzano Mountain Review, Visitant Lit, and more.