Well Wouldn'T You? Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

The sea fret grey and clammy cold
distorts the view along the shore.
Quite effortlessly it seems to mould
the things you knew were there before.

Into new forms which seem to be
evil, hostile and threatening.
You can’t be sure of what you see.
The muffled silence deafening.

I tell myself I’m not afraid
but briskly walk towards the light.
A subconscious decision made,
adopt a strategy of flight.

You cannot fight what you can’t see.
The local legends all insist.
The souls of sailors lost at sea
are carried by the clinging mist.

They crave the warmth that they once knew.
The warmth the living still possess
and they will drain the life from you.
Their urgent need is pitiless.

Of course it’s just an old wives tale
which cannot possibly be true.
Still when I hear the foghorns wail.
I make for safety wouldn’t you.

5-Mar-08