Poem - MAG Poetry Prize 2010
Remembrance
by
Near Wigan, UK
A sharp day, thin-blooded, bright lipped,
and with the line melting towards the rear,
sharing spit and whisky from a hip-flask.
A woman, young and pretty, smiles
beneath the cover of her legion poppy,
a scarlet beret at a saucy angle.
She bounces on the spot, claps along
to
the marching bands, a whistled tune
learnt young with playground words.
Her coat’s perfect, smart and black,
edged or lined with plush fur,
the muffling in a pair of matched gloves.
An immaculate fringe in bronze
and brown peeps from the petal of her brim,
catches drizzle and pale sun,
and when the bells and the silence come
trembles a snow of poppy-dust.
Added: 29.11.2009
06.05.2010
The descriptiveness of this poem is the most powerful part. I could see all, sense all and smell all.
31.05.2010
Wonderfully written