At dawn, rising to the surface light,
a Fork Whale
opens her flukes,
lifting her fins,
greeting waves
that shimmer over her.
Her baleen plates capture tasty morsels,
unaware as they float through her.
Humming low and long, she sees
her companion and whispers.
The morning answers
with its own songs and play,
breaching, rolling, kelping about.
Drifting through gardens green,
fish dart, colored and transparent.
Her grace dances calm, and vibrations
travel to her fatty ear.
Her home is a dream house.
She slows her movements as it darkens;
the day is closing in.
She drifts half-sleeping,
one eye open,
dreaming of suns and moons.
—
Meg Dolan is an Australian self-published author of Story: Reflective Poetry (2017), with numerous poems published in literary journals worldwide. Her work has appeared in Tipton Poetry Journal (IN), The Sunflower Collective (LA), SKYLIGHT 47 (UK), Lifelines at Dartmouth (MA), Nature Writing (UK), Eureka (Australia), ditch (Canada), Disabled Tales (UK), Poetry Potion (South Africa), and others.
