m.t. whitington


A force majeure, female catalyst, futurist, polemicist, psychonaut, epistemologist. Ruminating between the lines with a clarion call and extreme unction.  A global writer with southern roots.


Solstice

Solstice

This is the solstice, an electric traverse 

of the sun hung on the galactic cross

still… the midnight crescent reflects 

the calm of this cold long night;

upon the year’s threshold of changeover,

tilted axis crown on the niveous cusp 

small misty clouds of all-seeing breath

sync keys to unlock the future, an open door

to guides beyond. 

the abominable mystery

the abominable mystery

Sapianship

Sapianship