| Extract from 'Out of the Blue'
You have picked me out.
Through a distant shot of a building burning
you have noticed now
that a white cotton shirt is twirling, turning.
In fact I am waving, waving.
Small in the clouds, but waving, waving.
Does anyone see a
soul worth saving?
And when will you come?
Do you think you are watching, watching
a man shaking crumbs
or pegging out washing?
I am trying and trying.
The heat behind me is searing, searing,
but the white of surrender is not yet flying.
I am not at the point of launching, leaving.
A bird goes by.
The depth is appalling. Appalling
that others like me
should be wind-milling, wheeling, spiralling, falling.
Are your eyes believing,
believing?Here in the gills
I am still breathing.
But tiring, tiring.
Sirens below me are wailing, firing.
My arm is numb and my nerves are sagging.
Do you see me, my love. I am failing. Flagging.
Pronoun 'you' draws reader's focus
Speaker is just feint blur
white cotton shirt is the 'uniform' of the average office worker.
Man is waving for help, but is in an impossible situation where nobody c
an reach him,
He asks if anyone sees a soul worth saving, perhaps casting a judgement on his life?
Horrified at the thought that people are helpless to help him but watching him nonetheless
Wonders if people truly realise the horror of his situatioN
The heat of the fires behind him drive closer towards death, even though he refuses to give up and
'launch' himself into the air.
A bird flies by highlighting his inability to save himself and the appalling height of the building
He sees other peolple falling and jumping from the window
He questions whether or not he is still alive and tries to imagine what others are thinking as they look at him
He reminds himself that he is still drawing breath
The physical drain of holding on has taken it strain, his arms and grip is failing.
The poem ends on a 'cliffhanger'