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Tuesday, 19 July 2011

Watery grave for a mobile phone

I threw my pain away one day
A thing of torture
Me its slave

A steady hand and
Plop! it went
In the Thames
Its life all spent

Free at last! My heart leapt fast
A cormorant looked on afar

Down to depths I’ll never know
The thing sank near
Swallowed whole

The next day I returned to see
The tide was out
Only shallows

And there upon the vast shoreline
A black and shiny small device
My reach had not stretched very wide
A futile last throw of the dice

In the debris there it lay
The very thing I yet would crave
Glistening in the wet sunshine
The metal gleamed as if it smiled

Far beyond my human grasp
It hides submerged with one more gasp
And so I’m plagued with yet more stress
Each time I pass this tidal stretch.

A mobile phone that never dies
Come to haunt me on the tide.

(words and image copyright Sally Gethin 2011)

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