In their own words: the shortlisted poets
John Burnside
from The Good Neighbour
    cell by cell, a heartbeat at a time,
my one good neighbour sets himself aside,
and alters into someone I have known:
a passing stranger on the road to grief,
husband and father; rich man; poor man; thief
David Harsent
from Sniper
I am tucked up here with plenty left in store.
The night-sky floods then clears, flagging a single star,
and the city settles to silence under my peace.
The woman, the child, the grandad, are nothing ... or nothing more
than what history can ignore, or love erase
Alan Jenkins
from Effects
I held her hand, that was always scarred
From chopping, slicing, from the knives that lay in wait
In bowls of washing-up, that was raw,
The knuckles reddened, rough from scrubbing hard
At saucepan, frying pan, cup and plate
And giving love the only way she knew
Alice Oswald
from Wood Not Yet Out
            I love
to stand among the last trees listening down
to the releasing branches where I've been -
the rain, thinking I've gone, crackles the air
and calls by name the leaves that aren't yet there
John Stammers
from Composed on the Millennium Bridge
on the Morning of its Re-opening 22nd February 2002
I study the high-boned colourings of your face,
hot medallions in a cold circumstance;
my words scream out in the torque and race
of wind, 'scape this temporal 'cumbrance,
or whatever