Ullswater Requiem (3)
III Recordare Memory
You remember once yourself slipping off
the narrow shelf of Ullswater.
You were no swimmer at all and had waded out like them
beyond the glimmer of sunlight on rocks below,
walking on a cliff edge in a mist,
and only when you felt the stones begin
to slip and shift knew you were on the lip
of some commencing underwater fall.
You had rowed singing over the water
like fearless Vikings to the shingle beach,
bringing your gear: striped blazer, straw boater,
a camping stove for the picnic, scones,
a gramophone and old seventy eights.
You danced on stones before it drew you in.