Wishful Thinking

ottherI suppose it’s too late to be a sea otter?

To be in some otter place, some sandy inlet

where I may lie back and play a trout harmonica,

swaddled in ticklish kelp and buoyant insouciance?

 

I suppose it’s too late to be a god disguised as a sea otter?

To be in some otter time, some golden age

where I might heft my stone abalone-cracker,

teaching men to weigh wisdom heavier than pelts?

 

I suppose it’s too late to be otter than myself?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s