This morning walking,
the whale slipped into my head.
A great lozenge moving the wrong way,
up the rivers open mouth, hitting the rivers narrow throat.
We watched from the dark grey bridge,
the man-made, palatopharyngeal arch.
The great capsule going in instead of out, the rivers mouth,
Like nature, stuck in nature’s flow, unyielding movement.
The mighty mammal pushes forward,
not knowing to turn it swims in nature’s line.
Momentous movement against perpetual flow.
We walk off the bridge, choking back our desires,
to have the beast flushed out to freedom,
a reflux, of natural distress, silently shared.