The Orca Among Us
by Lisa Larrabee
All Rights Reserved © by L. A. Larrabee. Used with permission. From a book of poems by the same title
The Orca Among Us
– for Kotar, thank you for opening my eyes to your world
I looked into the
"killer" whale's eye
as he glided slowly
past in the petting pool
full of dolphins
and turquoise water.
He swam carefully
next to the wall,
his eye lifted just
out of the water.
He looked at each person
leaning over the edge
with something less
and something more
than the angelic, laughing
winks of the dolphin.
The people were transfixed by
his black and white sleekness
as if they were 16th-century
Aztecs greeting Conquistadors
as the gods promised long ago.
Both were messengers
who came from the sea.
I stood by that pool all day.
The whale and I
exchanged glances,
knew one another.
After a few passes
he began to know my look.
I offered my hand
for his examination –
just as you offer your hand
to a strange dog
before you are bitten by the world.
I was still young and
believed in the touch of innocence.
After my first pass at his
rubbery, smooth skin, I began
to run my fingers along the
crack of his closed mouth.
The other petters by the pool
stepped back and watched
with open mouths when
I slowly slipped my hand between
the orca's widely-spaced
teeth and began to rub
my fingers over his gums.
We built a trust and
I began to scratch the whale
under the tongue.
He liked it.
During the next few hours
he came back often and
opened his mouth for my scratchings.
He tried to train me.
He brought fish to me –
fish he held delicately
in his mouth,
and presented as gently
as your first Easter egg.
I thought he simply had
not swallowed yet.
But, he resisted
my attempts to put
the fish back into his mouth.
With gentle nods in the water,
he repositioned the fish
between his teeth.
Finally, I took the fish,
placing it beside me
on the pool's wall
and thanked him
with scratching.
I knew he was training me
just as his captors
were training him.
The implications
of his offering ...
I paused to think about
the darker designs
of this flesh between us.
When the sun had almost set,
I realized that
I was slightly sunburned
and blonder, but
those were the smallest
changes that day.
A sea of silence surrounded me
as I rode my bicycle home in
the darkening dusk by the bay.
by Lisa Larrabee
All Rights Reserved © by L. A. Larrabee. Used with permission. From a book of poems by the same title
The Orca Among Us
– for Kotar, thank you for opening my eyes to your world
I looked into the
"killer" whale's eye
as he glided slowly
past in the petting pool
full of dolphins
and turquoise water.
He swam carefully
next to the wall,
his eye lifted just
out of the water.
He looked at each person
leaning over the edge
with something less
and something more
than the angelic, laughing
winks of the dolphin.
The people were transfixed by
his black and white sleekness
as if they were 16th-century
Aztecs greeting Conquistadors
as the gods promised long ago.
Both were messengers
who came from the sea.
I stood by that pool all day.
The whale and I
exchanged glances,
knew one another.
After a few passes
he began to know my look.
I offered my hand
for his examination –
just as you offer your hand
to a strange dog
before you are bitten by the world.
I was still young and
believed in the touch of innocence.
After my first pass at his
rubbery, smooth skin, I began
to run my fingers along the
crack of his closed mouth.
The other petters by the pool
stepped back and watched
with open mouths when
I slowly slipped my hand between
the orca's widely-spaced
teeth and began to rub
my fingers over his gums.
We built a trust and
I began to scratch the whale
under the tongue.
He liked it.
During the next few hours
he came back often and
opened his mouth for my scratchings.
He tried to train me.
He brought fish to me –
fish he held delicately
in his mouth,
and presented as gently
as your first Easter egg.
I thought he simply had
not swallowed yet.
But, he resisted
my attempts to put
the fish back into his mouth.
With gentle nods in the water,
he repositioned the fish
between his teeth.
Finally, I took the fish,
placing it beside me
on the pool's wall
and thanked him
with scratching.
I knew he was training me
just as his captors
were training him.
The implications
of his offering ...
I paused to think about
the darker designs
of this flesh between us.
When the sun had almost set,
I realized that
I was slightly sunburned
and blonder, but
those were the smallest
changes that day.
A sea of silence surrounded me
as I rode my bicycle home in
the darkening dusk by the bay.