Seth Jani

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Cumulus. Two mares spliffing the night

With their warm nostrils.


The moon like someone’s large inheritance

Lost outside the window.


Ebb of darkness. Bleared horizon.

Death’s small cassia in the neglected plot.


Roundabout in the gentle dreamscape

The oneironaut tumbles through the flowers


Searching for a sign. The mother of someone

He’s not sure exists follows him until he wakes.


In the morning he finds birds

Composing near his bedstand.


While he slept their sound entered his dreams

As a mountain’s distant singing,


A waterfall’s voice, a lovesick phantom,
The small thump of a cardinal’s heart


Which in the strange dark of almost waking
Whistled through his head like a peacetime air raid,


Like a massive stroke of light.