Sinkhole Diving
Elizabeth Walton (Macquarie University)
After the 1973 Mount Gambier cave diving accident
A diver pushes into darkness at the edge of light.
Soundless plunge goes deeper now, lost in labyrinth.
Scissor sway in silence, stirring up the lime. The breathless glide.
Effervescent lemonade here clings to diver skins.
Never touch that eerie dark where the moaning cello sings.
Don’t push past the darkness at the edge of caver’s light.
Small stones plunge forbidden depths, no bottom is in reach.
Darker now than a wet bell frog or fiddle headed leaf.
Scissor sway in silence, stirring up the lime. The breathless glide.
Sideways tilt, hypoxic now, like drowning with a ship.
Plummet ever deeper, dark pittosporum spent and sweet.
The caver pushes past the gloom beyond the edge of light.
White of guilty mascarpone and ice in velvet cream.
Melted grief of angels making cannoli dusted sweets.
Scissor sway in silence, stirring up the lime. The breathless glide.
Dragonflies in clouds pass over, lambs and ram with wings.
Pearls on beaded wedding dresses, satin stitched to lace.
Way beyond the darkness at the edge of the caver’s light,
scissor sway in silence, stirring up the lime. The breathless glide.
Elizabeth Walton is a musician and writer, working on Yuin land, who holds a Masters Degree in Creative Writing, and is now completing a Masters of Research and PhD in Creative Writing. Her recent works appear in Mantle, FemAsia, Overland, London Reader and Artshub.
