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Poetry: “On whales”

More nature poetry!


On whales

Don’t call them fish
That’s just rude
Or should I call you money?
And that’s not as far removed
On the tree of life
A whale has lungs
Pumping heart
Birthing young
From large and heated womb
Into cold and perilous ocean
Taking their first breath
After a mad first dash
To the surface
Nourishing fat milk
Flavored with fish and krill
Caught in massive maws
After orchestrated hunts
Calls that echo in the depths
Watch their enormous eyes
And tell me honestly
If there is not an equal
Staring out at you


Copyright © 2016 · All Rights Reserved · Fantasy Transcendent


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