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.
RJT
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