There was a time when we traced

constellations in the night sky,

caught aurorae in glass bottles,

and left them by the doorsteps,

when we would paint landscapes

in your garden, barefoot on the grass,

days that smelled of mangoes and mandarins,

of dreams that could come true.

There was a time when I didn’t worry

about freak storms and slippery roads,

headlights that come in the wrong lane

and swerve into shattered dreams,

when I didn’t feel like salt water

trapped under a seashell,

wanting to sew back broken things,

cross-stitch over my skin,

when I wasn’t drowning

in sour blood and dried scabs,

wondering what the biggest star is called,

why it burns so bright in this empty sky.

Judges’ comments: A stunning poem that grabs the reader’s attention from its very opening. In two restrained stanzas, the poet provides a commentary on climate change and delivers a sensory feast, a blow to the reader’s emotional core, swerving into "shattered dreams, / when I didn’t feel like salt water / trapped under a seashell, / wanting to sew back broken things, / cross-stitch over my skin”.