You've read the news stories about the separation of immigrant families in the United States. You will be aware of the message Melania Trump carried on her coat. Poets have responded, from both sides of the Atlantic. Read what they have to say, this weekend, at Poetry24.

Friday, 25 May 2018

swim until




















the sea did not
fill your soul with sand
but dry land’s rising stone and complication
laid an arid continent to the edges of distance

geology and heavy weather
by erosion silted bleak memory in you
like gravel grinding your resilience
wearing thin like a cheap suit

sea calmed you in the landslide days
covered you with its translucent green light
your eyes’ weeping in another wet.

land and landscape
brought you to a hollowness
where sprawling humanity’s affliction
was its own scuttling blindness

it was never the sea
that filled your soul with sand
but sand itself gritty and windblown
stinging like spitting biting rage

you swam until land was gone
along with the crowded cities
you swam until the aimless and artless streets
were lost among the waves

away now
that’s you away

going down uncounted
to where currents teased your soul
with sky and horizon forgotten everything
of air and cloud or rain forgotten

you had let too many
crowds surround you
until they shut out the light
of every good day’s dawning

a stroke too far
let the breakers take you
and keep you not set you free
to rise again having only swum until
the world was washed clean
by tide and deep water

© Brian Hill

Scott Hutchison mural unveiled in Glasgow

Frightened Rabbit - Swim Until You Cant See Land

Brian Hill. 50 years a poet. One-time designer and film-maker; long ago, the rhyme-slinger, cartoon cowboy, and planetarium poet; now feverishly stringing words together in the hope of making sense.
Brian blogs as Scumdadio (don’t ask).

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