Noongah - Sunk 25/8/69
I stand facing the lake
And the wind whipping at white caps
Now chills enough to make me shake.
Close by, the cocktail bar
Still beckons, but I leave
To seek the outlines, shapes
Over the darkening water
And am reminded how once I kept
A lookouts watch at sea...
Twelve hours towards her call we steamed
Through heavy swells and howling wind
My burberry not worn enough
To stop the sea sprays sting
And dreams of a warm tea
In the company of friends
Kept teasing me.
Below decks I slept at last
Till morning, to a sea dead calm
And the railings with mens faces lined
(Off watch or on) , that we might find
Some small sign more than flotsam
Floating down our sides.
Some wooden steps a broken chair embraced,
And too, a ring
With clinging black on orange
Noongah's name not yet erased.
Nothing beside remained
Save for the sea that shrouds them all
And sadness clubbing on our hull
That still I hear, that still I hear
That will not slip beyond recall.
I go inside and leave the storm
To share a gin in company
I sip, and taste within the warm
The teasing taste of tea.
John Mackinnon - 10/11/85
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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