Poetry Annual 1998 O Y S T E R   B O Y   R E V I E W   [ 8 ]
  P O E M   / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 /
M. A. Roberts
S P E R M   W H A L E S   B L O W I N G
Out of beds of water their backs
Slightly ascend
                  bent and wet, re-
                  flect at eventide.
All the sickness of day
In a moment rolls away
                  even the boat
                  ceases to rock
When blowing beasts
Crack
deep and peace

Out of the blue, the Big Blue,
The only sound
                      water on water

 
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