raindrops staccato leaf to leaf
I enter the night with hands still
stinging from applause
cymbal-shiver of sheet lightning through cloud
Damp-skinned, I wade the electric darkness
ready for a sign, a sound
the wind’s spiraling cadenza
Tonight I am hollow
I am thin-walled, fine-grained
I will resonate to any note that’s true
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 18, Issue 1.
Jennifer Highland’s poetry has appeared in Heron Tree, Festival of Language, Josephine Quarterly, Quiddity, and other literary journals and anthologies. She practices osteopathy in New Hampshire’s first solar-powered medical office.
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