Azimuth | Adam Hughes

In those borderhaunted tomorrows 

fill your amulets with the bones

of passenger pigeons.

Fly through the walls like a child’s nightcry,

ask for a drink even though no one is there.

The hooves of a thousand horses make a deep

lake but dirty water. The feathers of a million 

flightless birds will be enough to soar; the breath

of one brave person will suffocate a tyrant.

One day on the riverbank, you

will find a feather stuck in the collarbone

of an otter and you will know

I am still exploring. 

Look up and see

the maps I’ve left for you.

Close your eyes and see

the maps we're still making together.

Adam Hughes is the author of four full-length poetry collections, most recently Allow the Stars to Catch Me When I Rise (Salmon Poetry). He received an MFA from Randolph College and currently resides in central Virginia where he is an adjunct English professor and amateur rugby player. He can be found on Twitter @adamhughespoet1.