The field- holes and hills-
sat smoothly on her skin.
Cold marble embracing
her waist; a kiss of
the earth through man.
The sea had grabbed
her legs and arms-lead.
Now, she saw with
white eyes the sky.
Cork-she went on as the sea
lulled her,
cradled her
with waves.
Colin Pickett
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/drowning-18/
