Seth Jani currently resides in Seattle, WA and is the founder of Seven CirclePress. 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.
His cartographies end
Just at the edge of waking.
He can map the amorphous shapes,
Liquefied shorelines, pint-sized houses
Of his sleep, but when morning nudges
At his hand his compass breaks
Into bits of disassembled light.
He fears citizenship among
The solid dynamos, the world
Of manufactured forms.
Every evening he waits for the calando
Of night-singing birds over the horizon.
They pass through him like a superstition.
He never recovers from his sense of awe
One thought on “Night Birds”
I had to look up calando — which is a good thing in my thinking. I love the way the poem captures the dissolving geographies we all experience in waking moments.