Death of an Amateur Caver
Neil Moss came to Oxford
To study philosophy—the love of wisdom—
And soon after he died
One-thousand feet below
The gentle hills of Derbyshire,
Smothered unconscious
By carbon dioxide that sank,
Only to build in slow triumph
From the base of the shaft.
Our breath, like desperation,
Is heavier than oxygen.
3 thoughts on "Death of an Amateur Caver"
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“Our breath, like desperation,”
speaks volumes
The second part of the poem makes it much more than a eulogy for the caver.
‘the love of wisdom’, ‘our breath, like desperation’….. a great poem. Thanks.