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?