Gravesend

The singing whale
sang canary song
swimming upstream
in the river of kings

Almost a portent –
a white flag of truce –
dipping and guiding
her head by the moon

There will be a dinghy
to greet the creature –
to check her origins
and to refuse a visa

We know too well
that her journey will fail –
in that dead end course
taken by other whales

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