Exodus

by Seth Jani

When the earthquake hit
we passed from our ordinariness
and realized the shamble of our bones,
the bamboo music our brittle bodies
are always waiting to play
in the winddown labyrinth of death.
Among the remnants of our city
I love best the stained-glass shards
from fallen churches, and the collapsed
hallways of 1970’s apartments.
I wish I had known my neighbors.
Now I have no one to walk with
through these miles of empty stone.