Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010


by Jake Conrad

Her one remaining eye is a beacon,
blue as sea-ice.

She, with a level stare, reminded me
that to her
the positional expressions 'here'
and 'there' were useless.

Told me she did not need a dog
to change her life.
She bore all her faith in God, the
great retriever.

Made big his almighty visage
in her mind's eye,
plunging sidewards through the wind
towards the bus stop;

returning possessed to
her iconographically-feathered

Before dinner, ritually rejects
what vision she has left and brushes
her fingers across his face.

His nose is dry as always
and he practically shivers.

Added: 30.04.2010