March 20th, 2021

not waving but drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,  
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought  
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,  
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always  
(Still the dead one lay moaning)  
I was much too far out all my life  
And not waving but drowning.

Посмотрела полторы серии Queen's Gambit и там Стиви Смит. Стихотворение это, в голове крутится, а вспомнить не могу. Вот, лезем, читаем, вспоминаем.

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