And I saw a whale,
Eggshell white shined with
Petroleum. I wondered if the
Blubber on hus bulging head
Acted as a window, where he could
See me. His blowhole, his third eye.
A belugas sixth sense, his fins graze
Frosting the water. Crystallizing the pacific.
Blubber is like a turtleneck sweater
Knitted knots pulse through blue
Beluga veins.
And the whale’s eyes turned
into crescents. Little moon charms
Dangling on ball chains like souvenir necklaces
Bought at gift shops for a dollar ninety five
Reading Anchorage with a picture of
A glassy white beluga whale. A fin
On the “a” his head on the “e.”
If belugas had tourist destinations
They would sell dog tag necklaces
With stock photo people holding
Block letter words reading “Great Barrier Reef.”
His eggshell and ivory glass tail swished.
Frosts of thin blue. Water bubbles from
Beneath the sea, he dove gracefully
Like a ballerina in the Nutcracker.
Creating ferocious wind tunnels beneath
Miles of ocean. Sparkling under
Frozen algae. His bugging beluga brain
Hidden behind thick ripples and layers
Of ocean fog.
Leela Sriram is a writer from San Francisco. She is a Junior at Ruth Asawa School of the Arts. Her favorite authors are Virginia Woolf and Sylvia Plath. Leela loves going to flea and farmers markets and taking long walks in the morning. Her favorite weather is overcast weather, she loves the rain and pine trees. She was published in SandPiper Mag. She longs to someday move to the East Coast and work and run her own literary magazine. She would also love to someday publish a collection of fables and poetry about Golden Gate Park.