Tuesday, November 02, 2021

New Poetry by Lynn White










Life After Death

Something has startled me 
where I thought I was safest,
where I thought I belonged,
so I will follow Whitman
in avoiding the still woods I loved
and the fields where I used to walk.
I won’t emerge from my home 
to meet my friends in the open spaces,
or hug them and share a coffee, 
there are no cafes anymore, in any case.

Even the ground has sickened.
The men in white suits spray disinfectant 
over streets and beaches to stem its diseased flow.

But still I’m alive to the sounds of spring
rising from the decay and death of winter.
Still I’m alive to the prospect of summer
when the fertilised ground shows the life
that death has bestowed on it and blooms.


- © Lynn White 2021


Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net  and a Rhysling Award. 

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