You park the car in a place
Where the headlights are
Overwhelmed by darkness.
Where the radio fades
Into the migrant static,
The negating air.
Mars moves into the rearview mirror
Like some creature of the night
With its one red eye.
You don’t believe in war,
But your blood recognizes
The call and pounds inside you.
All around, the lilacs fill your breathing,
Barely perceptible, in-breath and out.
You don’t have to be anything
For anyone, not even the gods.
The field breaks open like a heart.
***
Seth Jani currently resides in Seattle, WA and is the founder of Seven CirclePress (www.sevencirclepress.com). His own work has been published widely in such places as The Chiron Review, The Hamilton Stone Review, Hawai`i Pacific Review, VAYAVYA, Gingerbread House, Gravel and Zetetic: A Record of Unusual Inquiry. More about him and his work can be found at www.sethjani.com.
Sliver of Stone Magazine 