Whalesong

Literary / Arts

Whalesong

Genine  Hanns from The Language of Water

Volume 30  Issue 4, 5 & 6 | Posted: July 7, 2016

A steel gate clamps in the Sea World pool;
locks in the killer whale.
Lethargy breeds within him
as he breathes his dead sound.
His dorsal fin droops limply as he waits
with so little space in which to move.
In Icelandic waters
he claimed all the spaces
with slow and supple movements
below the surface of his sea.
Now each pool has grown smaller.
Inside the larger pool of simulated ocean
his cow and calf lift and gleam
under the laughter of the trainers
with their buckets of fish.
The whales leap for room
in the harsh sunlight
and they suffocate under the stars
miles from the waters of their birth.
Theirs are the dreams of nets and knives;
the creaturely eyes of the men

A steel gate clamps in the Sea World pool;
locks in the killer whale.
Lethargy breeds within him
as he breathes his dead sound.
His dorsal fin droops limply as he waits
with so little space in which to move.
In Icelandic waters
he claimed all the spaces
with slow and supple movements
below the surface of his sea.
Now each pool has grown smaller.
Inside the larger pool of simulated ocean
his cow and calf lift and gleam
under the laughter of the trainers
with their buckets of fish.
The whales leap for room
in the harsh sunlight
and they suffocate under the stars
miles from the waters of their birth.
Theirs are the dreams of nets and knives;
the creaturely eyes of the men
who kill gently with time.
The ocean waits,
a mecca of movement and joy
while their voices moan in the rainshadow
where the low cloud grieves.
All night while small waves break
against the pleasure boats
the cries of whales
echo in the marina bay
their song of mourning.
 

   

Genine  Hanns from The Language of Water