Tuesday, 14 September 2010
One Shot Poetry enjoyed the submissions for our first poetry competition. What excellent poems including one by a thirteen year old which was fantastic. For those who didn't make this submission, our next competition will be forth coming.
Thank you to all who participated - we took delight in your work.
It isn't as if we've done much with this year, is it?
I mean, it isn't true to say we'll ever be nostalgic toward these summer leaves,
the hot months cooled with tears and room-wide distance,
like a wide river Jordan neither one would cross.
They'll only fall away and wither.
This river will dry up, run off,
and hide itself in earth
until the earth
makes it a spring.
We'll be here like we are now: bones,
our summer leaves blown on to somewhere other,
as naked as the shivering trees.
Beautiful, would it be so difficult to meet
together in the riverbed
and kindle these dry bones,
between the two of us,
This autumn could mean something
if we just set fire to the leaves.