Crossing on the ferry, between the shaggy islands

I scanned the sea for whales.

Was that a spray from a blow hole?

a fin? Or just the crest of a subtle wave on the day’s calm sea.

I came for whales!  Where are they, in the churning wake

or white side water of the ship?

They had their own business to attend to,

in the vast ocean, plunging or plotting a course to their own ends.

As a little consolation, a joke, reminder of my place in things

here appeared a cloud whale.

I thanked the spirit that sent him.