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  • The American Poetry Review

    THREE POEMS

    Sep 01, 2019 1 minute
    WILLIAM KISTLER

    Wesley Before One

    before I was one I heard every soundas a sound that had never been heard,before I was one I saw every lightas a light separate from dark, colorhidden in a place I had notBefore I was one I used feet to wakenin water, to pedal through air,hands a means to release the hunger in my heart.From there I came to the bed where I criedand called out sounds without tears.People did not exist, nothing beyondneed and the place of a voice. I could notask and I could not refuse, there wasonly light to reach to, stairs of limitlessheight to lie beside. These are not memoriesbut tracks left on my eyes, marks on my lungsand my continual turning towardthose arms of warmth where I know continuous warmth

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