Potted Flowers with Books IV Eric Barjot Not Waving But Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning. Stevie Smith (20th September 1902 - 7th March 1971) |
Thursday 3 September 2015
The Thursday Poem
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