Dying Thoughts Of A Beached Whale

I lie resting half into the sand
And she pulses against me
As softly as the edge of the sea
Envelopes the edge of the land;

She pushes but never overmounts
My naked flank like a rock
Or the sunken support of a dock
Stuck just where the tide runs out

And the blank dark ceiling above
Shows vision and memory
That astrology and astronomy
Reveal, but these are alive with love.