Monday, February 5, 2018

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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