Three Poems

By Corey Mesler

	An Incident Near the College   As J. R. R Tolkien walked the hills surrounding his home near Oxford a small stranger silently trailed him. When he turned he was startled. The little fellow took out a pipe and motioned toward a tuft of grass. “J.R., sit,” he said, smiling puckishly, “I’ve got a long story to tell you.”
Ariose Morning   The rain cannot dampen today as words connect in me like DNA and the songs my children sang leaving the house echo inside me like ancient liturgies.
	For My Daughter Who is Already Radiant   What can I hope for you, to not be beautiful? You whose legs are already shapely at five, you who have your mother’s easy sensuousness. The world is a place of barbed wire and injustice for those fair, for those who carry such finery. Yet, Chloe, I look at you and see the angels’ modeling clay; I see the loveliness of September. I can only hope love, a fickle suitor, finds you early, finds you wholeheartedly. I, who must watch from a distance, the oblivion ha ha, onward rush of nature, who must be witness and father, tough enough, tough enough.

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