LUKE ROBERTS
Commended - 2024 Tower Poetry Competition, 'Mirror'
Lake-Face
January came by, all harsh and dry
The last leaves clinging to skeletal trees
In the park where she and I used to play
In the park where I now sit, unchanged.
I am grey and I am flat and I am even.
I wear the same lake-face she used to know
Soon, her search party will sweep in
Their lanterns raised against the snow;
They will look through me, looking for her
As if she isn’t the same girl standing in the glow
But I cannot speak and she will not listen
and either way I would not ask her to stay.
Brother. Sister. Liar. Mirror.
Do you recognise me now that
My bones have grown out of my skin?