Whale Song
By Alex Dawson
Every summer, I see the birds,
the squirrels, the small and
unassuming wild things
of the forest
raise their young
and then let them go
away, into the greenness,
into the widening
of their lives. Even the whales,
with their bodies
like whole cities
must someday watch
their babies
swim away. I wonder
if they feel how I do now.
Like, the cord
that joined us was
just a kitestring
all along. Like I am clutching
it against a sky that just
keeps coming, and, tell me,
how do we withstand
small agonies like this?
What kind of wild,
enduring hope
makes the whale
sing her song?
Alex Dawson (she/her) is a writer, wildlife photographer and adult ESL teacher from Toronto. She published a photo-poetry book entitled “All these Living Things” last year, which landed at #2 in nature poetry on Amazon’s Bestseller List. She has been published by “Queen’s Quarterly”, “The Bombay Literary Magazine”, “Gather Poets” and “Humana Obscura”. Her writing can be found on Instagram and Substack @alexdawcreates.
Artwork Source: “Whale, from Physiologus Theobaldi Episcopi De Naturis Duodecim Animalium,” Rudy Pozzatti. From the Public Domain.
The Turning Leaf Journal 