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Orca

Posted on 20/02/201928/04/2020 by Dean English

Two blue and yellow Ferryboat
which take people to look at Whales
are coming in quickly; a third soon 
as their tours conclude, coinciding 
with a sea change as the wind gets up. 

Where I sit, with the Work-safe 
Course pen, late afternoon, before cricket 
practise, I can see to the nearest city. 
I can’t actually see the city, two hundred 
shoreline kilometres, I know where
this city is situated. And when I am there
drying ourselves at a surf beach, we look back 
toward where I am now and say: That’s where  
we live, see: the paper-weight mountains
on the far, flat page to the horizon.

Closer in, a dinghy bobs and swivels, 
an older man, wearing the old style 
orange square life vest, has the oars out 
dripping watery curds; apparently 
unconcerned by the changing weather. 

Earlier the ocean was the blue tone 
and tint Travel Posters print. 

Dolphin scumaged and flipped 
being photographed and swum with

an easy one hundred swimmable strokes 
away. Now it is pea-grey, mud-spearmint. 

Sky a gauzy white darkening around the edges
like where a snow-globe is glued onto the base. 

One of the vessels has stopped
and an aeroplane circles too. 

A whale must be in close, shepherding her pup.
The man in the small white boat 
hasn’t moved. I don’t make out a fishing rod. 
Just sitting afloat the reward.

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1 thought on “Orca”

  1. peterlebaige peterlebaige says:
    26/02/2019 at 8:46 am

    And our reward is to read this sea, land and lazy scape.

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