After the burst we hurriedly

set sail with debris falling around us.

Frantically the islanders looked on as the old bucket

cast off, with painful slowness, from the quay.

Each metre gained was a metre of safety.

We stared back with grim, reddened faces.

 

Now, sailing under sunless cliffs,

we are nerved to adventure.

At night, sleepless, like blurred swimmers

we strike out for the safety of unknown shores,

where bread and breath and the balm

of rest are not forbidden.

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