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POEM: Lunar Time (Revisited)

May 11, 2015

Sneak peek of some of the work I’m hammering away at for #31DaysofO. Check out the hashtag for more snippets of the epic sci-fi novel-length poem I’m writing.

Lunar Time


time is inseparable

from the life force,

focus on the thrumming

of the blood body

find the rhythm

of your wavelength’s


time is as cyclical

as the moon, the

marker of change,

the flux of its

fingernail, an all

too tight dress

to peel in and

out of, a light in

a sleep of shadows,

soft sounds fall

across her orb.

slaughter daughter —

like we slay the earth

and the moon and the

maternal celestial

bodies before her,

broken rhythms

lay still across the galaxy

floor, unforgiving of their

murderers, unmoving in this


Lunar Time Revisited

the buzz of lights overhead,

rushing white lines

clawing at the hollow sky,

aren’t stars or even

fireflies, but aircraft sanctioned

to fly.

regulated space

that belongs to

no one, the sky

belongs to freedom

but that too has died.

the moon is no more.

we look up and realize

we can’t even afford to

dream anymore.

(C) Whitney French, 2015

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