9th Oct 10
and in the shop…
“The Probabilities of Balance”
He dips his toe, endures the creeping shock
with each slow stride, the goose-bumps and the shivers.
He curses as the crooked light
tells lies about a rock.
All this to swim – to fight
upstream toward the source,
testing his strength against the river’s –
then to be still, to tread
the pool’s deep water so its whorls
might rinse away his trouble.
He slips his ring and watches as it falls,
dives steeply into an amber blur to fetch.
Or fail – a sudden panic of remorse
until a glint of gold, his fingers stretch.
Breathing relief, he feels the bubbles bubble
past his upward-floating hair,
then pushes from the riverbed
to race the last ones back to air.