gentle rain falls in the breast of the leviathan
drops pool in memories once long forgotten
the brown of winter and mud stains on the heart
steel gray clouds, squeezed from blow holes
cold sun, unsure behind the glassy surface, floats slower
the lungs of the world are picked apart, tree by tree
a sad whale song is lost in the fog of distant hills
eternal monday evenings—ordinary as hands
beauty, living behind the land to enter the sea
legs incased worthless under blue-green water
trust disappears from the face of the moon
poseidon swells and low tide goes missing
the gods are vexed by the creep of the backstroke
under the storm’s punch, the sandbar is smeared
suddenly, everything changes in a shimmer
breaking through the surface, the pod rises
with gulls circling, searching for the radii
whale bones bleach in the warming sun, eternal salt
on the crest of a wave, venus has left with mars
and el niño’s violent tantrum wanes for summer