Belugas

Belugas

I love the ambiguity
of beluga’s: the shifty flow
of their dough-boy bodies,
the way their eyes bulge when they lay back
belly up and still their heads look right way down.

Better yet the blue aura
they move in more
than an artificial aquamarine-soft
yet electric in a shock
of blue they cruise
their lips locked
in a bliss-filled grin,
the domed bone bell
of their skulls beaming through an aquatic ballet.

I could fall in love
with these bald-faced
Buddhas masquerading
as belugas.
In their bodies you
can sense the iced
blue of the Beaufort Sea
and the constant urge
only to be
elusive and malleable
and (foolishly) wise.

– Derek Hanebury.

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