Sunday, September 1, 2013

the three


he holds you tight under his arm-pit
dancing on waves like a wood on drift
with other drift-woods swimming not
to the shore, to you, the eternal rest spot

the other, with you on the same spot
too swims with speed, not aimlessly float
but deep under water with intent
to whirl the water above with its content

the third he steers the rudder of the boat
pretending to swim with others in the moat
his own dug-out, to colonise you and the rest
the submissive slaves, with no quest, nor zest

henry victor     31.08.2013

 

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