The Weekend Island
I used to imagine the working week
As a body of water we all have to swim
Friday night an island comes into view
After an hour face down on the sand
We dry off and dress
For the weekend
Shake the salt from our hair
____
Sunday night in the darkness
The wind reminds
We will be back in the water
At dawn
Black & oily at first then grey
Our muscles ache
We swim or drown
There is no third way
Clouds & gulls
& distant ships
Distract us like
Newspapers & gossip
_______
We are not fish
This is not our natural zone
But few have the energy
Or inclination to question
If we all refused to leave
The island
What then?
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