IN MY KAYAK

The wind carries us
for miles by a hospital ship
of rescued turtles,mammals
and assorted dogs
when gutted by so many flames
along the shore off the Cape
near dead Elm trees and boughs
washing out in the blackened
breezy ocean of mirrored bodies
this anarchic poet in my kayak
draped in
my old dark lumberjack jacket
offering my human hands
as we sail close to the accident
thinking of the Jewish prophet
Jonah swimming in Nineveh
also on a mission
and Herman Melville
writing in his log
by a slew of dolphins
and one wounded
humpback whale.