poem

First Loves

by Nick Bertelson

For Molly

I left a little light on

and it led me to ruin.

Each morning a moth

beating in my mouth.

I left a little light on

atop the nightstand next

to the water ring,

little crushed moon.

I left a little light on

and needed a jump,

the car’s clicking solenoid

like a witch’s hex.

I left a little light on

and made it look like

a mistake. That way

you’d know I left it for you.

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Nick Bertelson is an award-winning poet and fiction writer whose work appears in Kenyon Review, Prairie Schooner, North American Review, Rattle, and Wigleaf. He is the author of the novel Eighty-Sixed from Paradise (Handcar Press 2025). Currently, he serves as a staff reader for New England Review.