Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011


by Melanie Davies

Autumn curled leaves with fingers of gold
They crackled and baked in the sun
Branches cast red
Spilt blood over head
And soon the last evening would come
That day marked our end
And we had slept in
Perhaps if we’d risen or known,
Then we would have woke
To the birds last ruptured chokes
As they perched on their great mossy thrones
With their final song
The notes dropped as rain
Fragile diamonds that shivered and writhed
But deaf ears they pierced not
So the cadence was lost
The feathers fell soft when they died
So we never shed light
On their babbling plight
A symphony of chaos, gargled tremor
And our muddied great sleep
Dark draped depths rolling deep
Were shed shrouded and dreamless forever.

Added: 30.04.2011