As I walked through the arch on shore
into the water, deeper and deeper,
until the current gripped me
in the middle of the river Hull,
as the clouds above me chased by
after something surely forlorn,
as after a while I was carried off
my feet downriver in these mellow
waters which occasionally reflected
some sharply defined rays of sun
managing through breaks in the clouds,
I felt there was nothing to be lost
by simply drifting along in these
softly bouncing waves, going under.
– James Steerforth ( © 1989 & 2010 )
Posted for Sunday Scribblings #200, Milestone.
As the copyright indicates, this is actually an older poem. It was originally titled “Thunderstorm,” and some words, including those at the very end, were different.
I find the new title to be more appropriate, even though somewhat enigmatic.
A poem more than 20 years old. Sounds like very old, when in actual fact it’s only been 7600 days or so since I wrote it.
beautiful melancholy
Wow. This is beautiful.
This post was suggested to me by Leonard Blumfeld after he read this post of mine – Drowning