LEAP

Every year, when the weather is hot, crowds of youths climb onto this suspension bridge and urge each other on to jump into the water. Inevitably, since the water is not very deep and the bridge is quite high, one of them dies or is badly injured. Last Friday afternoon they were there again their voices clear and loud even on the river bank. People tell them to stop but of course they take no notice - they are young and invincible. So for POETRY THURSDAY I wrote this on the listening theme. In it I tried to capture the voices that I heard.



LEAP

I cannot help but hear,
you shout it to the world:
'Watch me,' 'Follow me,' 'See me,'
and I do.

You sit crouched
on the top rail
looking down,
waiting.
'Chicken,'
I cannot help but hear:
'Chicken,'
'Lily-livered,'
'Jump,'
So you do.

Down to where the water
is not quite...
'Darren?'
Where the bottom is...
'Daz, man?'
Where there are hidden...
'Daz, stop mucking about.'
And you do.

There are swans here now
and girls in peddle boats.
'Look at me,'
You jumped.
You landed - badly.
And if you could
you would take it back
-each cry,
each 'Look at me,'
each time a clutch of lads
mucks another one up
for the hell of it.