Ghost whales on an emerald sea of silence.
by Norma V. Finney
Beneath the moon's mute smile.
Where once great heards in billows blew
A single pod of cetacea,
Ghosts in a silent interval.
A pale parade of epiphany giants file
In neither Sea nor unformed space.
Long after Man has fouled his nest,
And moved on, other worlds to corrupt,
Will raging waves toss silently
As ghost whales mourn,
Shed dry tears along.
Time was they swam with the swarms,
The seas were free and clean.
No Rex they, well they might,
With pride have been.
Did they ever deem man
A maker of imminent emergency?
Man, a mite, a grain of sand
In the Eternal clock of time.