Monhegan by Catherine Pond

Ledged in a memory
of being moored, what chafes
at the edge of the wharf

answers no. Spring tide,
neap tide, against-tide, still the kiss
is what you current for most.

Rum- runner
coursing the mouth, scraping bottom,
teething at the keel. Come closer,

winter is over. This sudden foam,
this rush, this third-quarter moon,
these are for you

and they come only once.
How fast. And with how many hulls.


Catherine Pond was raised in Alpharetta, Georgia and holds an MFA from Columbia University and a BA from Skidmore College. Currently, she lives two lives—her real one in Brooklyn and the imaginary one in her head, which tends to resemble Iowa City. She is Assistant Editor of Salmagundi Magazine.