At the Hour when we are Trembling with Tenderness

John Brack, The Fish Tank, 1957

Diving into a deep blue sea,
Frolicking carelessly
Among strange and beautiful
Shapes, that dart and flicker
Upon the ocean floor:
That’s what happens
When I fall asleep.

Coming up for air,
A wet and naked organism
Writhing helplessly on a plane,
Arid and dry, that denies
Knowledge of geometry:
That’s what waking-up feels
Like for me.

The sudden evaporation
Of the sea, and
Violent dispersal
Of starfish and anemones
Into darkened clouds: Perhaps
That’s what it will be like
In my final hour. ✏️

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