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| Painting by Rebecca Belmore |
You and I wait for a boat.
We do not know where we aregoing and neither does anyone else.
The water is cold you say, a treachery for blood,
I stand and dive into broken stars of floating wreckage,
I stand and dive into broken stars of floating wreckage,
following those who have jumped before;
a woman and a child holding hands, a family.
You say nothing, as if goodbye has already been said.
A baby sinks, orange life-vests blossom.
From the edge of the jetty, you watch a silence more cruel than winter.
Ice grips my legs, my head bobs, eyes frost.
Something draws me down.
You know what it is – not a bitter sea – its gelid flesh,
but the turning of a back.
powerful and evocative, cold,cold,cold…