dash
Millionths of a Second
 
In a narrow strait
at the tip of the island
a dolphin showed itself,
a sun-kissed glimpse of godhood,
and our friend told us a story
of dolphin depth-perception, a matter
of millionths of a second.
 
Later, taken onto a skiff
where we crouched in the stern
beneath a swinging yardarm
that demanded our attention,
we saw the story told again
to a seen-it-all skipper -
who brightened, despite himself,
 
like a sail filling with a fresh breeze
or a rudder responding
to a deepening current -
with just the same gestures,
just the same smile,
the same sense of wonder felt
and imparted.

David Callin
 

If you have any thoughts on this poem, David Callin would be pleased to hear them.

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