Blown Inshore

Blown inshore, onto
a rock platform, feeling
his dead weight
and the sun
on the bay where
he once disported
himself,
cutting himself
on sharpness,
the aged whale lies
crushing and grinding
shells to a midden.
People assemble as
if to worship, each
with an idea.
Hours pass
in stasis
till he vomits ambergris
as the tide comes in
after kindly hours
have passed, and he floats
in foam again.

 

(Julian O’Dea)

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3 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by fuzziewuzziebear on February 11, 2018 at 12:46 am

    I am glad that your whale survived. Tragic animal stories get to me. While it is not poetry, it is fun. The bear had to be thinking along those lines anyway.

    Reply

    • Posted by Julian O'Dea on February 11, 2018 at 10:22 am

      My whale was imaginary. Its behaviour is also probably a bit unlikely. I doubt that it would produce ambergris like that, although it is certainly found sometimes on the seashore.

      My whale is a bit symbolic too.

      Reply

      • Posted by fuzziewuzziebear on February 11, 2018 at 3:53 pm

        I am still glad that your symbolic whale survived. Perhaps, he can have another adventure?

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