Dining with the whale

The day ran past without a backwards wave.

I found myself, coffee in hand, at four p.m.

Dreams of the red whale re-meander through my mind.

Recall people asking what we do?

You would say: meander, me and her.

I would smile. I would try not to, and I would fail.

I smile right, exactly, now.

The whale was larger than a breadbox

But, smaller than a tidal wave.

Blood red. No variation in shades, as though block colored by a child.


You did not even consider dinner,

the whale said.

I do not want to eat.

Why not?

I don’t know.

Just say you are not hungry.

Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

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