WINTER SWIMMING ANYONE?

Not me! But a little while back I saw a tiny and very, very, very old miniature ivory carving of a sea otter and its cub, tucked against the mother’s tummy and I wrote this. I’m not really sure why I did, but I did and so here it is.

SEA OTTER (mother and cub)

The kiss of cold wet

that sleeks face fur

Eyes washed with salt

Cub tucked close

A rush of sound

Bird calls

Scratch, like my claws, at the air

The tumble and roar and white of the waves

And down

Wheel, turn, bubble-drift

And fly

Through silence

In a green depth of turning and twisting

And touching tails of weed

And shadow

A silver flash

The twist and bite

Flesh, bone and bite

Salt-warm in the mouth

And up to the light

Air and sound

And down and

A grey ghost from the dark

Stone eye

Black hole mouth

Needle teeth and teeth and teeth

and the fear-rush of pain

Cub tight in my coil of life

Slick to my fur

Swift through surf and stone

Earth-safe

Mother and cub.