Not Waving but Drowning by Stevie Smith
Not Waving but Drowning
Stevie SmithNobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
MARGINALIA
Too cold tonight. Too cold always.
ABOUT STEVIE SMITH
Florence Margaret “Stevie” Smith was born on September 20, 1902, in Yorkshire, England. She began as a secretary with the magazine publisher George Newnes and went on to be the private secretary to Sir Nevill Pearson and Sir Frank Newnes. She began writing poetry in her twenties while working at George Newnes. Her first book, Novel on Yellow Paper, or Work It Out for Yourself (J. Cape) was published in 1936 and drew heavily on her own life experience, examining the unrest in… (more)
Read more poems by Stevie Smith • Find books by this poet on Amazon • Bookshop • Or view my library
ENDNOTES
- Explore other works in pursuit of: misunderstanding • despair • isolation • Or browse the index
- If this work resonates with you, please consider supporting the archive. Thank you for reading.


![#38 [I have observed pink monks eating blue raisins] by José García Villa • Read A Little Poetry Header PostFeaturedImage 09](https://readalittlepoetry.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/07/Header_PostFeaturedImage_09-120x120.jpg)

