After Not Waving but Drowning by Stevie Smith
Diving with the dolphins after dark,
negotiating currents on a whim,
setting off distress flares for a lark ‒
it's all a jolly game of sink or swim.
It's all a jolly game of float or die,
never one to take some sound advice ‒
caught between the emptiness and sky,
it's all a tangled tale of weed and ice.
It's all a tangled tale of new and old ‒
circumnavigation with a smile ‒
drifting past the glaciers and the gold,
skimming through the turbulence in style.
But now the seas have grown so bloody cold
these shores seem very tempting for a while.