At the Gates
The quotidian deaths keep piling
their black ruins into the earth.
Life approaches on hushed feet,
carrying her cage of multicolored birds.
We best make our peace with these mausoleums,
these open houses of the rain.
Rickshaws carry our aging parents
to the gates of the city.
Their eyes are exhausted
by the cascading light.
After so much stone
I’m hungry for the sight
Those shimmering blue bodies
filling my hands.
Those dark jewels
from a burning sky.
Seth Jani lives in Seattle, WA and is the founder of Seven CirclePress (www.sevencirclepress.com). Their work has appeared in The American Poetry Journal, Chiron Review, The Comstock Review, Ghost City Review, Rust+Moth and Pretty Owl Poetry, among others. Their full-length collection, Night Fable, was published by FutureCycle Press in 2018. Visit them at www.sethjani.com.