Corey Mesler

Far Away Torchlight

Remember how neither of us
wanted to come home
even though the war was over
and TV reporters were sleeping
in all the rooms save ours?
Remember how you said
remember the clay courts we played
on, love,
and when the rain started
we dashed under the portico
wet, breathless and horny?
The wind chimes sound like
banyan trees suddenly;
they remind me of Ohio
and a driveway
with a rusty tricycle.
Where Uncle Bill retired.
Where Aunt Sylvie died.
You said
Let's go home in the Spring, Neddie.

Or let's never go home.


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