Lynn White


The loss of light comes earlier,
that’s when the day ends
and the night begins. 
And then,
a new day begins
at midnight
in the middle of the night
when darkness is at its
its most intense
and only the night owls
are out and about
heaving their midnight sighs
for the new day to come
and the one they’ve lost.


'To sleep perchance to dream'.
That’s what he said.
Sounds so gentle,
but there’s a rub,
a rough edge to this sleepy escape
that would see me float away
sending me spinning,
out of control
to an indeterminate end.

So perhaps it’s daytime dreaming 
that has the edge
to smoothly move me
from one place to another.
In wakeful dreams
I can determine the beginning,
at least,
and invite the participants.
they may act out an old story
with a predictable end.
I can write a new story
and then

bring it to life.


It’s trill has the effervescence of Bucks Fizz.
And not just as a morning wake up call,
but an all day long pick me up.
And it’s not just for Christmas
but available season after season.
Such longevity
in such a small bird.
Such year round year cheer
from dawn to dusk.

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 is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud ‘War Poetry for Today’ competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Capsule Stories, Gyroscope Review and So It Goes. 

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Flights. Issue Two, September 2021