Brother Whale
He is sick.
His time has come.
Knowing this, he swims to land.
An outer world
so different from his own.
I see him coming and go to his aid.
I sit with him along the shore.
He makes little movement
and utters not a sound.
Yet his eyes, O his eyes
say a million words.
I wipe the gritty sand from his massive head
and stroke his side
with the touch of a loving mother.
O Brother Whale,
you are not alone.
I am here
in your solitary death.