Beneath my thinking,
leagues beneath,
and I mean leagues,
I sense a refrain.
Wouldn’t I like to know it
word for word
Wouldn’t I know
it's as comprehensible
as whale song would be
to me if I were to slip
beneath the surface and listen.
Beneath the surface is the line I cast
I wait so ready to see the shimmering wiggle
of the thin clear string.
Ocean,
if I hook it,
I promise—
I will learn it by heart,
then throw it back
again and
again
and again.