The Friday Poem on 23/06/23
We chose ‘Swimmers’ by William Thompson to be our Friday Poem this week because we love the journey it takes us on – from the local swimming baths through the heat of the Sahara desert to the discovery in 1933, by Hungarian explorer László Almásy, of the ancient rock art in the Cave of Swimmers. The poem develops from the prosaic – skimmer drains and chlorine tubs – to the revelatory; the cave drawings implied a time when the Sahara was significantly greener and wetter than it is now. Thompson takes us on a deep dive through history, from the present day to the Neolithic, and leaves us gasping. Beautiful.
Swimmers
Next time you dive
into a public swimming pool
think of the taxes,
the architects, the builders,
the water gushing
through skimmer drains,
the tubs of chlorine,
the lifeguards in their seats
like bored umpires.
Then of Almásy
as he steps out of the desert heat
of Gilf Kibir into a cave
cool as an empty church.
His torchlight
ripples on the rock.
The darkness
seems to hold its breath.
Then, his torch beam
does a double take:
a stencil
of a 40,000-year-old hand
and above
three swimmers
arcing through a dive.
Imagine Almásy
standing there transfixed,
the meaning sinking in
until he runs, then re-emerges
in the heat, elated
and breathless
as you might be
as you are coming up for air.
