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Corey Mesler
AGAIN WITH THE LIGHT
I sat at table.
The cup was full.
I waited for the
shadows
to make the first
move. I watched
the light
come and go
come and go
until I was drunk
on memory.
In time it will
all cohere,
even the parts
we don’t care for.
Even if we
don’t know which
way the light
or the shadows
will go.
Even if we feel
less a part of it
than its prey.
M IS FOR MESLER
By my name call me.
By it I am known.
At least as far as it goes
today. At least as far
as memory goes, too, that
trick, that goo. Call me
and I come. Call me and
I know my name at last.
At last I am that word.
DESUETUDE
The document was lost.
The rain was getting in.
The dog waited by the
door for the sheep to pass.
The porch was rotting.
The car was cold as the
world’s heart. The window
was cracking, cracked.
And still I rose to sing.
I rose to sing and I sang
the song of continuance,
the one we danced to
in the beckoning shadows,
in the days of becoming.
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