I guess I must be feeling a little overwhelmed at work these days because I've been re-reading the following two poems.
He said:
Robin Robertson
Waves
I have swum out too far
out of my depth
and the sun has gone;
the hung weight of my legs
a plumb-line,
my fingers raw, my arms lead;
the currents pull like weed
and I am very tired
and cold, and moving out to sea.
The beach is still bright.
The children I never had
run to the edge
and back to their beautiful mother
who smiles at them, looks up
from her magazine, and waves.
She said:
Stevie Smith
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.
Pour 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.
It's been a while since I've done a "he said" "she said" blog, comparing poems by male and female poets. Yes, Robin is a male poet, and Stevie is a female poet.
