Surviving The Sea
written by: Geraldine O’Kane
Rare west wind blows coast to sea,
while I rewax board, stretch limbs
climb into wetsuit, crash right into
classic combers roll in on the Atlantic sea.
No rip current, in fact, no current to speak of,
it’s the wind carrying my pleading voice
away from the last jut of land,
from lighthouse, from all forms of rescue.
For thirty two hours waves were my only earworm,
vying for attention as my mind scorched,
get me out of the sea, the bone grinding,
pervasive, seeped-in, cold of the sea.
No one knows the levels of dark that comes
when the sea tries to eat you at night, black moonless sky,
black land encircling, black endless bed of ocean.
A single speck, yellow surfboard no better than a
canary in a mine, blue flies set it aglow in the darkest hour,
buff of wind, splash of mist, paddling to preserve body heat,
if I close my eyes I will drown, a seagull helicopters over head,
I dream of being found.
NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR:
Matthew Bryce who was rescued alive from the sea after being stranded for 32hrs.
Found poetry based on a podcast published at Nocturne Podcast – Shortboard, a podcast by Vanessa Lowe (August 10th 2017)
Latest posts by Geraldine O'Kane (see all)
- Surviving The Sea - January 1, 2019