CANADA

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SURVIVOR (V80105)

As each night reaches farther into morning
the sea comes closer to my memory.

A convoy signalman listens to the knuckles
of the waves tapping on his Oerlikon shield
like dried peas jigging on a publican's plate.

Between semaphore and lamp he crouches
watching the corvettes and frigates scurrying
into the forward North Atlantic fog
cutting angular lines in the restless wash
like shepherds on alert for prowling wolves.

Yet the wolves come among the tired ships
and their explosive wrath incites the escorts
into a hunt the signalman cannot light
as he is cast into the struggling waves
among a bobbing company of ghosts.

Discarded slickers are the first to drown
then strength, then hope, then good-luck charms, then men
who never taste the last drink served to them
by the tantalizing, time collecting deep.

As the sea comes closer to my memory
each night reaches farther into morning.

© All Copyright, 2000. Alastair Grant.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.