I dream I am on fire.
I am a protest
in front of a tank
of tepid sea-ish water.
where Tokitae
still lives, still
sings the songs of her family
still living in the Salish Sea,
though there’s no one to listen.
Once, her pod’s song
was brought and played to her.
When she heard them
she was still, except
for the trembling. My limbs
once fins, are matchsticks
stricken to ignition.
Maybe someone will listen
to how an orca, without the sound
of its family, is like a child
afraid of the dark.
I wake. Tokitae
is still
dead, died alone
in silence.
—
Hannah Martin is a poet, former naturalist, and cold-water enthusiast living by the Salish Sea.
