Diving

The moment I tire
of difficult sand-grains
and giddy pebbles,
I roll with the punch
of a shrivelling wave
and am cosmonaut
out past the fringe
of a basalt ledge
in a moony sea-hall
spun beyond blue.
Faint but definite
heat of the universe

flutters my skin;
quick fish apply
as something to love,
what with their heads
of gong-dented gold;
plankton I push

an easy way through
would be dust or dew
in the world behind
if that mattered at all,
which is no longer true,
with its faces and cries.

by Andrew Motion

Other poems of MOTION (1)

Comments (5)

an easy way through would be dust or dew in the world behind if that mattered at all, which is no longer true, with its faces and cries. Beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing it.
quick fish apply as something to love? This is pretentious crap. Not carp. Crap.
Very good poem which one might expect from a former poet laureate of England.
Well done and nicely inked.Thank you for sharing.
I roll with the punch! ! Thanks for sharing.