Solemn and slow
they glide among the strands
like leisurely torpedoes
through kelp and crystal beams.
Calling and answering
in echoes that follow no sound.

Melancholy music
drifting in and out
the jagged caves...
are they, perhaps, lamenting 
over lost calves drug into 
cruel steel nets
that sway in the depths of blue?
Or maybe they moan over
faces pressed flat on the glass;
vacant eyes staring,
smearing with fingers,
fogging with opened mouths...

They'd probably love to talk to us.
But their wisdom is wasted
on shallow clams
and absent-minded eels. 


by Lisa (Teel) Rodriguez
1984