November 2nd, 2026Local Lines

m o o n l i g h t i n g

the moon aglow
its fullness tosses
and turns my body
this luminous visitation
grasps at my edges
drags at my psyche

dawn leaves me
wanting and uncertain
distant sphere nests
softer somehow offstage
dimmed by daylight

a faceless orb
I could shuck its
featureless pearl
from its sun blue
satin sky sheets
skip it across laddered
dark oceans

a phoenix scythe it returns
harvesting war and peace
day upon day upon
day discrete

until lush once more
it descends desperate
full of men’s memories
spilling into my night
pouring out
its milky misery

– Samantha Beranic

Samantha Beranic lives on Dja Dja Wurrung country, Woodend. She writes
about place, sense-making and what life simmers to the surface.

Local Lines features poetry by locals about local and any other matters.
Please submit poems to Bill Wootton at cottlesbreedge@gmail.com