Tyler Jacobs

There is the clanging of a bell somewhere
in the darkness. This refines how they teach

us to find God. Imagine what we don’t hear:
The cracking of brick in buildings

or lanterns that rip from bellies
and give us unspooled thread

to find a way back into the soft space
of light. Buildings have a way of collecting

people. All loss adds up to something.
As we lie under a mobile of wilted flowers,

we wonder when the grey hair
and the folding of laundry will start.

Nobody should have to clean up the mess
we leave any longer. We listen as the door

creaks open to realize it developed pain–
we were born with it to grow

into ourselves the same way we once grew
into shoes. The day waits as we wait.

This is the sun when there is no more flint
to spark the flame.

Tyler Michael Jacobs currently serves as Editor-in-Chief of “The Carillon.” He is the recipient of the Wagner Family Writing Award Endowment. His poetry has appeared, or is slated to appear, in “The Carillon,” “Poached Hare,” “The Magazine,” “The Hole in the Head Review,” “Runestone,” “Rumble Fish Quarterly,” “The Whorticulturalist,” and “East by Northeast Literary Magazine.”

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