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.