Lucille Clifton (47)

The last hour is here!!! I am going to near the end this crazy Blog-a-thon with a poem by the lovely Lucille Clifton. This poem is absolutely and utterly amazing.

shapeshifter poems


the legend is whispered
in the women’s tent
how the moon when she rises
follows some men into themselves
and changes them there
the season is short
but dreadful__shapeshifters
they wear strange hands
they walk through the houses
at night__their daughters
do not know them


who is there to protect her
from the hands of the father
not the windows which see and
say nothing__not the moon
that awful eye__not the woman
she will become with her
scarred tongue_who_who_who_the owl
laments into the evening_who
will protect her_this_prettylittlegirl


if the little girl lies
still enough
shut enough
hard enough
shapeshifter may not
walk tonight
the full moon may not
find him here
the hair on him


the poem at the end of the world
is the poem the little girl breathes
into her pillow_the one
she cannot tell_the one
there is no one to hear _this poem
is a political poem_is a war poem_is a
universal poem but is not about
these things_this poem
is about one human heart_this poem
is the poem at the end of the world

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