i see faces braving sea breeze
on their phones talking home
others so busy for preparation
waves patting the sides of ship
as it slide swift like sword’s blade
independent cruising at low speed
dolphins want to race one more time
flipping, making noise as they can
a brown seal guarding number one buoy
raise her whiskers and clasp her hands
she have bruises on her back, healing
i could imagine her pain with salt sting
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem