Poem - MAG Poetry Prize 2010
After Summer
by
Norwich, UK
The sun in its best gown
unstitches rain from windscreens.
A pail of wasps pester hub-
caps in makeshift car parks.
I love you. I let the hot sigh of
the air vent be your breath before I face the
truth of the sea breeze. I drift in the cliff’s
hairy lip, atop a sandy jagged tooth. My limp
hand taps the papery glume
of the sedge. I reach for fingers -
those delicate fingers of samphire,
chamfered by Cornish waves.
Unreachable.
I look up to whinging arcs
hankering after summer and the suck-
spit of fat chips and razor clams.
Like you, my darling, they are not there.
It is late. The coy quiver of the wasp breeds
a silent terror that weaves
in mute. I look at my watch;
I still love you. My short gold hands clutch at
nothing and I watch the moon-fed
waves as they cry into the dark.
Added: 21.04.2010
13.05.2010
Really beautiful poem: I wanted it to continue!
25.05.2010
Some lovely images, but would be improved by a reduction in adjectives.
27.05.2010
"the suck- spit of fat chips" is a brilliantly inspired line.
02.06.2010
This is a lovely poem, full of heartfelt images and leaving the reader curious and wanting to return to reread it.