Solo

The Southern Ocean is my play ground and it is not the place you want to be in a Southern Winter.

Solo

For ever in the turmoil of nature’s washer Stuck on extended wash

The eternal enveloping darkness Like the inside of a mine

The kaleidoscope of overwhelmed emotions

The cacophony of sensual sights and sounds From above and below

Left hand down, Hold, Right hand down, Hold

The invisible Everest’s colliding From every which way

Like runaway freight trains

Pulling to the ice dragon

Am I going forward or am I going backward

Am I going up or am I am going down

When will it end, when did it start

Time does not exist in this watery world

What is sleep?

Oh, the joys Of sailing the Southern Sea in winter

Robert Aitken 2017