Two Poems

by Seth Jani

These Basic Principles

I believe there is a forest
that haunts the decimation of forests,
that lives in the dry spells
between glaciers, the ages of ice
in which furred gods live.
I believe there is a love
that haunts the absence of love,
that colors the darkness with a deep magenta,
that fills the heart with something other,
the way twilight fills the shadows
with something not quite light.
If you could hold your fingers
and trace those shapes in the quiet air
you might find a door to different meanings,
to stories twisted and new.
You might find powers beyond yourself
hidden in each secret corner,
each blooming fragment of the night.

✦✦✦

Beachcombers

The rig of the moon
has once again wrecked itself
over the empurpled sea
and the beachcombers
light their cigarettes
in the luminous ruins
fallen around them.
Their delicate bodies
shine bone-white
even as the haunted smoke
of another summer
fills their eyes,
even as love
continues to wind
its labyrinthine fire
through the decent weather
of their days.
Shipwrecked moon,
what mad children
collect your ashes
in their hands?
What transformations
do you leave on their fingers,
molten and bright?

Seth Jani's work has appeared in The American Poetry Journal, Chiron Review, Ghost City Review, Rust+Moth and Phantom Drift, among others. His most recent full-length collections, Night Fable and Field Music, were both published by FutureCycle Press. He Lives in Seattle, WA.