By Tom Williams

I’d heard that you were learning how to swim,
So I put on my gills and joined you, deep
Beneath the lapping sea, with waves as grim
And blacker than a dreamer’s empty sleep.
I swam through shipwrecks plentiful and vast
Without a pause to venerate the dead
(And so, I did not see the sails half-mast);
I raced along, held by the glow you shed.
I swam on undetected, hiding well –
So timid, out of range of all your light.
So near to you, I then could sing my knell –
Your bioluminescence steeps my fright.
So back to land, I struggle to evolve
When I have troubles that your light won’t solve.