as the past sinks

as the past sinks
it starts to swim
the fragments bobbing
on the crest of a wave
tumbled to the tideline
along the beach

i really want to write about whales
their breath
the myths
the Biblical past
where Jonah journeyed
within an unnamed friend

whales speak
beneath the surface
but do we hear -
do we sleep better
as their lives decline?
our lives decline,
our existence
undetachable
from theirs

the air outside is stale
so far from the oceans
the sea horses and clams
the marlins and barnacles beckon