How You Got Out
Someone left the door unlocked
Someone called the night nurse up
Someone remembered to bring your memory home
Someone called out of work sick
Someone said it was your birthday party
and that you should go out for a walk
Someone took a picture of us and your teeth were missing like you were a hockey player
who got checked badly by old age
Someone decided the humane way was the best way
Someone inserted an IV in your arm which became your arm and slowly became your entire room
Someone turned off the lights in your body
Someone looked at me through your eyes trying to remember my name
I Want To Show You Something
We are standing by a creek.
The creek is overflowing.
You dip a glass into the creek.
The glass is pebbled with
You hand the glass to me
and say Do not drink
but all I know is how to drink
so I drink and I drink
until I have drank the entire creek.
The last I saw of you
you were trying to swim upstream.
About the Author: Wheeler Light lives in Broomfield, CO, where he writes poetry and prose, and walks his dog. He is a Pushcart Prize nominee and the recipient of the 2017 IthacaLit Difficult Fruit Poetry Prize. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in December in New Delta Review, The Meadow, and Hobart, among others. He is the author of Blue Means Snow (Bottlecap Press 2018).