hi colin,
i like this a lot. And, after a few reads, hoped you
wouldn't mind if I made a few suggestions:

After a fall the sky
is never the same.

She hadn't said
that she couldn't swim.
When asked if she snorkelled
she'd said yes. They'd
set off through the lagoon
to the white rim.

Sun shone on tanned backs,
winked on waves' tilt,            {moved the')
sent its bending lines
like radar onto turtles,
conches and coral trout
and they'd waved with large underwater hands
just as her snorkel snapped off
and floated from the grip of stretched fingers,
then sank.

He turned for another
and couldn't grasp why
she was low in the water
face stone grey         (****)
with mouth to the sky
and didn't answer* when asked
but gasped
as the water drained.

His snorkel jammed in
she swallowed and came back
to the good-luck turtles,
flopped weakly
on the sloping sand.

After a fall the sky
is never the same.

Years later, her daughter
couldn't wait to climb trees like Mowgli,
ran on to an arm of beech
leant tenderly down.
It eased her up to the thick trunk
where she slipped
from the height of a ceiling
onto her head,
and saw for the first time    {line cut out}
behind herself.

He saw altered years,
thin limbs in a wheel chair
long after
she'd stood and cried.

At times memories stray into meetings.
He finds them in streets
like man-holes uncovered,
enough to run his hands
gingerly along each rim,
sense how deep the pit.

*******whatta ya think?
BTW, find the line
At times memories stray into meeting
quite inspiring.

thnaks for the good read and the chance to tinker.
later
calaya









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