fear of diving [poem revised]

an ekphrasis: Highboard, by Peter Keetman, 1957

Highboard, by Peter Keetman, 1957

My poem today is a rewrite I felt was needed of a version posted in April of 2023. Also needed was an introduction to the inspiring German photographer, Peter Keetman (1916-2005), who was a founding member of a post-war group of photographers called fotoform. The name, ‘photo’ + ‘form’, gets at the spirit of the group, as you might discern from the image above, also the case in an extensive collection of his work, all of it amazing, to be found here.

morning on the diving raft

A boy aloft 
absorbs the slivers 
of a newly risen sun
looks for a ship 
to break the horizon or
beneath a swell
the tail-flick 
the gleaming breast 
of a mermaid
  
Below 
another boy 
   we see 
wrapped 
in cool shade 
gazes into 
the blackness
the widening mirror 
of his own eyes  

The rest remain still
   hushed 
as if a lifetime older 
than they are 
girls barely aware 
of a destiny
boys bowed
intent on doing 
nothing more

But we remark too 
the one who knows fear
there on the low board
who toes the edges 
his knees bent
a trembling hand 
to his mouth

This being 
the first time
he has been 
so exposed
his memory 
edged closer 
toward the source: 
how he knows
   the way an ocean 
might ebb
and never flow
   depths that expel 
monsters and lovers 
we've only ever heard of
   swollen rivers 
coursing incessantly 
beneath and through 
the abyss 
   in wait and 
   beckoning