Giles Watson

Giles Watson

Posted on 05/31/2014

Photo taken on November 26, 2013

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Isola 2

Isola 2

2. The Swimmer
for Robert Drummond

I twist and watch reflections curl
from underneath the slop and swell,
reach up, let my fingers splay,
feel the mirror-membrane swirl,
and watch myself transform among
the skeins of seaweeds, body long
as an otter’s, breathing brine,
inhaling sea by gill or lung.

Both suns I see from here below
the shimmering. Bird-things flew
above me last night, borne
between moons. I melt and flow;
my hands, diaphanous as fins,
leave streaks of silica as I swim.
I come out glistening, and cannot say
whether this is scale or skin.

Poem by Giles Watson, 2014.

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Mike Jones
Mike Jones
Great poem-pic. (Who is Isola ?)
4 years ago.
Giles Watson
Giles Watson
I wanted a name which would communicate the idea of complete solitude. Isola is Italian for island, but I had decided upon it before I knew that. People could perhaps, on the most literal level, read it as the name of the planet on which the narrator finds him/herself, but I have left it deliberately ambiguous.
4 years ago.