Third prize

By Candle

To think you’d tried one
on yourself. An intricate
and soundless pair, now unworn
for ever by my bed. Your foot guessed
my temple slipper size, your gift
from the other side of the world
where it seemed we’d been when we took
to a slow dance to test them; your shadow
wild enough to carry on without you
as we all have to.

By Rob Miles