Diane’s Funeral:
Down to the river to pray

(Alison Krause)
Father Along

(Ellen Mcilwaine)
Show some emotion

(Joan armatrading)

I rose early and went. Tasmanian beach; no waves roll in. Only a quiet lapping at the shores. Squeaky sand. Paddling out, thinking Harold Holst. The cold is like being squeezed between giant hands. I exhale pins and close my eyes. A few bubbles swirling from my nose, up and out. A fattening. My heart beat is sharp, pressuring tears. No toes to feel. My open eyes are below it all. The sun rises now. now light streams. Silver gloss. Thoughts chaining. Just sparks flittering. Above currents. Streaming, streaming. Below the surface, prickled eyes perceive flits of white. Circles hollowed out. Ashtray eyes. Flat light, disperse silk. Saturating skin. Sight as sense is static. White mixes with a wash of red and blue. 
Suddenly all of a sudden.