by Mary E. Lowd
March 9, 2021
Bulbous blimp
Ridiculous thing
Breasting waves
Swimming with fins
Where did it come from?
How did it come to be?
Long ago,
Don’t you know?
They left the land
Gave up their hooves
Now only lingering
Remnants remain
Of their old ungulate frames
As underwater
They do sing.
* * *
From the book: Some Words Burn Brightly: An Illuminated Collection of Poetry
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