Amphibiology

Reading my old friend Christopher Reid’s work over the years, I am struck by the vividness and range of his imagery. I asked him to choose one of his poems for Plenty of Grapes and this is the one he chose.

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Like old men frolicking in sacks
seals slither on the sea-thrashed rocks.

Why does their melancholy sport
exert such a strong pull on my heart?

I could stand here for hours on end
watching them fail to make dry land.

From time to time one gains brief purchase,
adopting the pose of a Grand Duchess.

In seconds, though, a fist of surf

rises to swipe the pretender off.

Repetitive slapstick,
it has the charm of earliest documentary film.

Stuffed statesmen and wind-up warriors
turn to salute us across the years…

Only, in this case, something far
more ancient seems to hang in the air.

It could be the question, whether to plump
for a great evolutionary jump
 
or stay put in the icy brine.
May the good Lord send them a hopeful sign!

Amphibiology, from In the Echoey Tunnel, Christopher Reid, Faber 1991