published by Passengers Journal
I know how that feels –
water breaking on an orca’s back;
the fall of the ocean
as it makes space for me –
oily, waxed,
wind on my humpback.
Sure, I’ve surfaced as a woman,
but not fin-first,
never arched like that –
graceful, huge,
slight manoeuvres of my tail.
If I was never a whale
tell me this –
how do I know to listen
for the call of an echo,
crooning that nameless part of me,
telling it where to go next?
Ceri Savage 