sometimes
when I dream
bits of my
soul
drop
down
like rain
on the great
river
with the
white whales
to play and
speak their
clicks, squeals, squeaks
I wake
full of joy
but not so much
anymore
there is
sadness in
the pods
and people
white
whales
are dying
full of
chemicals
then
are buried in
the toxic dump
as
hazardous wastes
is this the end
of joy?
