Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

His Invisible Letter

by sarah margaret crouch

There is a glint in his eye,
That reflects in his glasses.
A sensible jumper is questioned,
As he carries a tea cup with no saucer.
 
The microphone is silently moved,
As a tingle of unease runs through every spine.
A slight sense of dread follows him down the room,
Pausing at the end to prepare his first line.
 
Reaching the expanse of his stage,
Which is all of four foot square.
The room begins to mould and shape shift,
As his invisible letter is painted in the air.
 
Tales of love, despair and misunderstanding,
If he writes from experience then dark memories he holds.
I stare at him as he speaks deciphering what’s real,
Listening to the way his imagination unfolds.
 
Tensions rise as he shouts across the room,
He's putting his audience through emotional hell.
Do you react to his words or draw in his pain?
Whether this is truth or fiction it is a story only he can tell.

Added: 01.02.2011

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