This poem was Highly Commended in Live Canon's Young Writers' Competition 2022 in the year 10-13 category.
He Said Don't Write a Poem About This
no one writes love poems anymore
but when I first kissed a boy, snow fell,
it crowned us
when I opened my eyes he was frost-capped
like the larches and beech
which arched round our heads
later he said it was perfect
I watched the flakes melt and damp his hair
moisture settle on his cheeks from the thaw
from the heat of his skin
the drips in his fringe, his misted eyes - a wilderness.
He travelled all day for this,
a frozen moment, brief happiness
two figures in a snow globe, a first kiss
did he also feel like he was looking in, bearing witness,
wondering if beyond the lips and the mint,
all the pristine drifts, this was it?
