The Hunter’s Moon (Aka Sanguine or Blood moon) is the name of the full moon that appears in our skies during the month of October. Sunset and moonrise are never far apart. The moon takes over the light shift of the sun. This means that during this period, the sky is not without a bright light. Poachers love this moon for the reason it makes poaching at night an easy well lit affair. I therefore call it The Poacher’s Moon.


My snapshot shows this year’s (2022) Hunter’s Moon on the night of the 8th October. The full Hunter’s moon arrived the next night on the ninth.
The picture on the left also shows the Hunter’s moon with dazzling Jupiter above it.
The image below shows the Hunter’s Moon over Horse Guards Parade, London on the 11th of October 2022.

All Photo Credits: Lesley Scoble
Oh, Hunter’s Moon Dim Thy Light!
by Lesley Scoble
Oh, Hunter’s Moon dim thy light!
Too many souls
Will die tonight.
Your phosphorus hunting moon shines
Above—
All night long
The poachers
Love!
Your nightly cyanic shafts of lambent light,
Satanic sanguine conspiracy of fright,
Searchlighting wild lands
Of nature’s spilling sands
In evensong.
There is no Dark of night when you shine.
Your effulgence uncloaks, reveals, define
The rare rhino in sublime outline—
Silhouetted,
As plain as day!
Their poachers will find their prey.
Beneath the moon of blood,
These good-for-nothing crud
Hunt for rhino horn.
To trade forlorn potion—
(comprised of keratin—compressed nails and hair;
There is no aphrodisiac there!).
The endangered rhino is running blind
With fear
Her young calf follows
Close behind.
They run and run—
Across the plain
To find
Some refuge—
All in vain.
The last survivors may not see tomorrow’s day.
Far away:
A ranger screams,
“Save the Rhino!
Make haste, make speed!”
“Save the Rhino!“ pleads the ranger, “from the danger and the greed”
But
No one
Heeds.
So we can only pray—
For there is no saving one
today.
Yet again,
The rhino’s caught
And slain.
It’s horn
is sold
and bought.
The rhino had nowhere to hide.
They stole the horn.
The rhino cried:
“T’was your gleam,
Oh, Blood Moon,
That too soon
conspired
to close my life!
What was the need
To make me bleed?”
And so she died.
The orphaned calf,
Beside her side,
Was left alone
To dream.
No time to shade the Hunter’s moonbeam.
No time to listen to a scream.
—Lesley Scoble October 2022

Save the Rhino
Once upon a time, there were thousands of rhino roaming and grazing upon the planet.
- On average a rhino is poached every 22 hours.
- There are five rhino species: three in Asia, two in Africa.
- Two rhino species have fewer than eighty animals left.
Please find out more and help Save the Rhino here
My poem Oh, Hunters Moon Dim Thy Light! is in response to the d’Verse poetry ‘Mooning Around’ challenge. My thanks to the host Sarahsouthwest and all at d’Verse for encouraging me to write this poem.







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