Blood Moon
My blood was the moon becoming
woman then—
scalding a pooled hour in the
night
slipping off the mattress with
the sun at daybreak
uncovered dawn, un-ripened
turn, strip of universe
I was young, sand and bone, reversed—
brief lakes and fire,
gemstone’s trace
jagged in velvet by flutters, starts,
instinct’s flinch—early to love
that silvered face
Blazing fix, you were the lens
holding me there
in a circling tide, in the
howling phase
Yvonne Morris
Yvonne Morris is the author of Mother was a Sweater Girl (The Heartland Review Press, 2016). Her poetry has been published in a variety of journals, including The Lake, The Galway Review, and The Bengaluru Review. In 2019, she was featured as a Poet of the Week on The Poetry Super Highway website. She teaches and tutors at a community college.
Tags:
Poetry
A fruitful entry in the art category of poetic power.
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