The Lake at Night<\/strong><\/p>\n The lake at night is still, I read them from my windowsill. Forget which way is heaven A ripple murmurs through the ink, Further apart they soar, What if every star\u2019s a sun to another world The lake is black as heaven\u2019s ink. Felicity Powell<\/a> was highly commended in the Young Adults category<\/a> of the NCLA’s Water Poetry Competition 2012<\/a>.<\/p>\n The NCLA Water Poetry Competition was judged by W.N. Herbert <\/a>and John Burnside<\/a>. The ceremony was held at Northern Stage<\/a> on 23rd February 2012<\/a>.<\/p>\n Photographs of the event can be viewed here<\/a>.<\/p>\n
\nThe surface smooth as paper
\nAnd black as heaven\u2019s ink.
\nStars are written on the water.<\/p>\n
\nSunlight is minutes old,
\nAnd faraway lights died long ago.
\nStars are memories on the water.<\/p>\n
\nAnd lake becomes sky,
\nTruth becomes myth.
\nStars have fallen in the water.<\/p>\n
\nAs though an angel\u2019s feather
\nHas fallen upon the surface.
\nStars are flying across the water.<\/p>\n
\nThe space between them changing;
\nNeutron, red dwarf, supernova.
\nStars evolving on the water<\/p>\n
\nAnd someone there is watching me,
\nWatching the stars on a lake like this?
\nStars are suns for different waters.<\/p>\n
\nI sit awake, uncertain,
\nNot knowing where water ends and sky begins,
\nWatching the burning memories
\nOf long-extinguished stars.<\/p>\n