becomes the only boat. Lays her body flat, bellying black water that sucks below the dock. Her chest a prow, her face the fixed
After the barely averted disaster—the plane dropping on stuck wings down the thin cliff of cloud— skewing to the airport’s red homing eye before
Judith Montgomery’s poems appear in Prairie Schooner, Cave Wall, and Rattle, among other journals, as well as in several anthologies. Her chapbook, Passion, received
