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

Next poem: The Unknowable Mind of a Frog
Previous poem: Hippo

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