said she could see out of the back of her head.

But even she had to sleep, sometimes.

Offering you a quiet respite

From her watchful gaze.

She taught you everything you know, like:

Each half of an orcas brain

alternates being awake,

So it never loses consciousness

And never stops swimming.

A few years ago, you saw the story

of a mother orca who’d lost her calf

and spent the next 17 days

Filling the ocean with her cries.

Swimming with its body,

dwarfed by its mothers grief-

She kept pushing him above the water,

Trying to will him to move, to

Dance on the waves like she dreamed.

Your mother called and asked

If you’ve been eating well,

When the last time was

you got your oil changed.

If you’re still seeing that guy who

made you cry at 2 in the afternoon

In the break room.

If you wouldn’t mind

Sharing your location with her like you used to,

Only for a little while -

It’s the only way she can keep an eye on you anymore.

This year, the orca lost another calf,

and began her mourning

once again.

Does she wish she could know

the comforting blackness of sleep-

wish that she could close her eyes and not

see a broken promise?

Your mother taught you,

Female orcas can live for 90 years.

Imagine carrying that

For all that time-

Without even a dream to save you

From the grief of empty spaces,

Swimming beside you

In the futures wake.

Storm season has made its way to American Elegy ! Make sure to spread the news

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