A
chattering of children,
pink, yellow, red,
Crosses the little bridge on shore.
The children push one another.
Fights erupt.
And settle back.
The chatter does not cease.
|
Here
in the deep it is quiet.
I am in a small boat.
There are only questions.
A great glistening mass,
a brown-green
spottled
whale
Rests by my side.
I do not believe
The whale knows I am here.
The whale does not move.
I do not move.
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