Laura Marsh (Commended)
Redborne Upper School, Ampthill
Nights ago, fire-crackers woke me.
Flashing rude, electric light at my window,
they reeled red in squadrons –
Victory Rockets, Spitfires, Midnight Sun.
I watched the sky flicker with them
like old war films; silver petards reporting
in bursts of confused applause.
Their trails of pink smoke and sulphur hung
long afterwards, bleary skywriting.
Then I dreamed of flying:
usual, uncoded dreams, where I would slip
among large, quiet stars; not soaring
or exploding for a silent crowd
and, in the morning,
my eyes, my skin did not itch
- Date February 6, 2015
- Tags 2007 Flight - Winning Poems