Poetry competition 2007 – Air For Sale, by Rebecca Joy

Runner up (11–17 years category)

I say young sir,
Would you like some fresh air?

Don’t mind if I do,
O my,
That’s the finest I’ve had,
Haven’t had air like that,
Since I was a lad.

It was captured and jarred fresh this morning,
From one of the finest places left for man to swallow.

I’ll take a couple to go if you don’t mind?
The fresh air these days is running low.

O yes sir,
Dreadful I know,
If only our grandfathers were more considerate.

Since I was a teen,
This polluted fog has not lifted,
O how long has it been?

O my,
One of my greatest fears,
To have my memory fault like this,
I say, nearly thirty years.