A poem by Mario Relich

Today’s poem comes from Mario Relich, a retired lecturer in Film Studies at the Open University and Edinburgh College of Art. Mario lives in Edinburgh and his poetry collection Frisky Ducks and Other Poems (Grace Note Publications) appeared in 2014. Written in in January this year, its ominous atmosphere might well strike the reader as a  prescient one.

 

Winter Solstice

 

I could see nothing,

it was so totally dark,

I could have been blind,

a nightnare, I felt a fog

 

gradually enveloping me,

as I paced the deck

of an ocean liner, alone

and  utterly frozen.

 

I caught a glimpse

of the shore, faint lights

blinking in the distance,

and the ship getting nearer.

 

What I desperately  needed,

as I woke up, my blanket cold,

was the welcoming  safety

of a landfall in the morning.

 

But as luck would have it,

I was dealt an ace of spades,

for  I fell asleep again,

and this was my dream:

 

I stood on the deck,

and felt a shaft of pain,

ambushed by a shadow,

looming like an iceberg.