Paul Ilechko
A Place Without Light
Why borders why box
I am for universal I am for peace for acceptance for tranquility refracted by the prism of my privilege
the lawn cut short as if scissored the concrete paths dividing segments the place where apple trees once grew red brick under occasional sun circumscribed by hedgerows the caw-cawing crows the distant bells the quilting farmland patterned by field against field
and there he lay so big so ungainly collapsed under what was called “heat” smiling still despite the darkness unknown and untold smiling still despite the suffering of place being no place no home
what was once my country
I am without need for borders without need for box he was bordered and boxed but not by predilection not by choice
a world before change before freedom forced into hiding his own truth forced into a life without place in which to burn his candle the smoke spilling greasy into nothingness each day the same
what was never his country
no light for his darkness
Paul Ilechko is the author of the chapbooks Bartok in Winter (Flutter Press, 2018) and Graph of Life (Finishing Line Press, 2018). His work has appeared in Manhattanville Review, West Trade Review, River River, Otoliths, and Pithead Chapel. He lives with his partner in Lambertville, NJ.
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