5 Poems by Lynn White

The Last Time

I took a walk
through the woods
before the leaves fell
for the last time.
I heard them
glistening and shaking
getting ready
to fall.
It’s the season for it
after all.
I saw the light shining
on the leaves of grass
getting ready
to push soft spikes
in between the fallen,
saw the light
shining
through the trees
lighting up the white crosses
chalked on the trunks
crosses lined up
as in the fields of a cemetery
after that war to end wars.
Too many white crosses
ready now
to mark the graves
of those about to fall.
It’s the season for it
after all.

It’s always the season for it,
we’ll wait forever for that last time.

First published in Poets Online, September 2024


Winners And Losers

There’s always one.
Always one
ready
to cast the first stone.
Always one
righteous
enough,
confident
enough,
arrogant
enough.

And the rest
of the pack will follow.
It makes no difference
who they follow
which prophet
which god,
the game’s the same
and it will play out
until
the stones become a mountain
from which her blood flows like a river.

Then they will celebrate.
They’ve won again.

First published in Ekphrastic Review - Han Van Meegeren, challenge, November 2021


Peace Is

Peace is more
than the absence of war
though that would be a start.
And then the dissolving of boundaries
constructed by humans
to cordon off one from the other
and shout across the divide.

Then we can whisper and hug
our way to peace.

First published in War Against Peace Anthology, Editor - Maid Čorbić, March 2022


All That Glitter

It glitters
like gold.
But is it
gold
or base
metal
being worked on
by an alchemist..
undergoing
transformation,
perhaps
with a touch
of magic,
with an elixir
of immortality,
an illusion.
Or perhaps
base oil
transformed
to
sparkly
plastic glitter
with
all too real
immortality.
Glittering,
littering
with
everlasting life,
all that glitter.

First published in Silver Apples, Issue 10, 2018

The Impermanence Of Flowers

The impermanence of flowers
alarms me as it gives me hope.
Only plastic flowers last forever.

The impermanence of flowers
gives me hope as it alarms me.
Flowers should not last forever.

First published in Alien Buddha Zine, January 2025




Bionote

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 Pushcarts, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/