by Jed Myers
Your exit’s approaching—time
White pelicans congregate
on the lip of the dam.
How long ago now? She drove,
I looked at the river.
They glide in and out of shadow,
looking judicious at rest,
urgent in flight.
I was the one who knew this town.
Foam collects behind the rocks.
I found the bar. She discovered
the tiny theater.
Slow down. You’re almost there.
The pelicans are the judges.
Jed Myers has been writing poems for many years, but only in the last decade or so has he sought publication. during this period, his work has appeared in many journals, including Prairie Schooner, Fugue, Golden Handcuffs Review, Nimrod, Quiddity, Summerset Review, The Monarch Review, Palooka, Diverse Voices Quarterly, Tawdry Bawdry, Talking River, and the Journal of the American Medical Association.