Going Home

streetlamps call butter-colored
from rainswept autumn streets
ripples mingling with graying shadows
go home, they call,

while people take flight from bars
you trudge apart from crowds,
the moon darting through silver-gray
fleeting glow a jacket

over tears, a beautiful white
not like sterile walls
silhouettes move through warm windows
where speakers thump

and the blue of screens flicker
with laugh tracks
the homes stretch
you want them to stretch out more

the streetlamps fade
butter-colored ripples sink into gray

By Yash Seyedbagheri

Biography:

Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. A native of Idaho, Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, and Ariel Chart, among others.