Seven Weeks - a journey through new grief

Seven weeks today. A July wind
is tousling the trees, rumpling the garden.
I have written five letters, washed the sheets.
A mistake somewhere – I’ve not finished
the crossword. Sit with the sounds of Sunday.
Thrashing leaves. Cows. Planes. My own breath.

This is how Christine Webb's prize-winning poem Seven Weeks begins. The poem, about the death of a partner, won the 2007 Poetry London Competition and is worth your time. You can read her poem and the other winners here on the Poetry London website. Follow the Competition link on the menu on the left of the front page.

(This is the complete post. Ignore "Continue reading" link below.)

And here is the rest of it.