Three Poems by Lynn White

 

After Time

 

“I’m late,

I’m late again”,

said the White Rabbit

staring at his pocket watch

with exasperation.

He turned the minute hand back a little

and perused the new time

with satisfaction.

He knew the effect would be limited

unless he could turn back the hands

on all the clocks everywhere,

but it made him feel better

briefly.

He had pondered this issue of time

many times.

He knew that clocks and watches were irrelevant

to it’s passing,

which made him feel better 

about his manipulation.

Philosophically speaking,

he knew that he could change the time.

He could break the watch and freeze it.

Break all the wheels that turned inside.

Smash them to smithereens.

But even then,

even when 

broken,

he knew

the wheels of time

keep turning, time after time.

 

First published in Capsule Stories, Summer 2019

 

 

Like Alice

 

I’m too big.

I’m too small.

I can’t I fit in,

fit into this, rabbit hole world,

any more than I did the other,

the above ground world.

Both can’t be wrong,

can they?

It must be me

that doesn’t fit,

that can’t be made

to fit into them.

Me, that's wrong.

 

Both worlds can’t be wrong,

can they?

 

 

Little Sister Lost

 

I woke in the sunshine

and salvaged my book

from the damp grass.

I stretched..

I looked around..

She wasn’t there.

I looked behind the stone,

then under it.

A pretty blue mouse

scurried

from under,

but no little sister.

Then I thought 

of the rabbit hole under the tree

where the scraggy, stripy cat

had spat and snarled at us 

earlier.

 

I found the tree

and the rabbit hole.

Was she down there?

It was too small for me to go.

I shouted down

and scraped

and scraped

and scraped

to make it bigger.

A rabbit would do better

with it’s big feet.

A rabbit,

like the one standing behind me

with such big strong feet.

Help me.

Help me.

 

 

He sniffed disdainfully

and removed one hand 

from the pocket of his purple fur jacket

to brush the soil I’d splatted

on his white velvet breeches.

Such big strong feet

for digging.

Help me.

Help me.

Help me.

He gave me his spade.

 

I started to dig

and dig

and dig.

Dig till it was big

enough for me to go

Scrabbling down.

Falling

scrabbling

falling.

Scrabbling,

scrabbling,

scrabbling,

looking for the light

and my little sister.

 

 

First published by Silver Birch Press, Me In Fiction Series, June 2016

 

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, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Capsule Stories, Gyroscope Review and So It Goes. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/