Poetry by Koda

Desert Whales
© Koda 1989

Drifting out through the ghoul littered
Ramparts of the towering plateau
Their eyes shift nervously
Between themselves
And the sheen of large
Fossilized bones staring back
From the faces of the crumbling,
Heat-tortured cliffs.

Above them
The sun never cools
In the rippling waves that aren't there,
The air-ocean has no surface
To surface to
To breath,
The blue is too thin
And they can see too far.

They can see my wet form glimmering
As they twist slowly above
The pool of this shallow waterfall,
Pausing, as though amazed
By the tumbling stream;
By the eerie familiarness
In the feel of the spray.
I can almost touch them
As their large eyes roll toward me,
Eyes reflecting the depths
Of a growing distrust.

They move cautiously
Near my outstretched hand,
Communicating in glances
That seem to wonder
What their ancestors must have allowed
To transform their rich,wet world
Into something as impossible as dust.

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