Dying Thoughts Of A Beached Whale Poem by Christopher Woodall
Dying Thoughts Of A Beached Whale
I lie resting half into the sand
And she pulses against me
As softly as the edge of the sea
Envelopes the edge of the land;
She pushes but never overmounts
My naked flank like a rock
Or the sunken support of a dock
Stuck just where the tide runs out
And the blank dark ceiling above
Shows vision and memory
That astrology and astronomy
Reveal, but these are alive with love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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6/6/2025 6:35:00 PM # 1.0.0
