Whalesong

needles scraping bone,

heel and sole.

sliding cold inside your boots

you bear the weight of all you love,

while inches underneath

the giant gods of other worlds relay

their shepard songs.

empty aqua loneliness.

they disappear,

soaring softly into darkness and

sinking,

willing,

deeper than the sky is wide.

their dreams are of a solid state;

the breath that leaves their backs a

force of nature,

strong enough to rent the field on which you stand that now,

to us,

seems still as stone.