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a poem by Seth Jani

Star Song

There are clocks that hang from heaven
On certain evenings by the sea,
Or in the desert, face down,
While the yucca's yellow arms
Stretch and pray.
They keep time for centuries,
Precise ghosts traveling eons
Through the dark
To light the eye's small kingdom,
Or dance above our heads
While the slow fuse of summer
Rages on.
Ancestral. Lanterns on the foreheads
Of the damned.
Sisters to the solitudes of Maine.
They disassemble over the bridge
And the city crescendos into flame.

© by Seth Jani
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #30 ~ April 2014