A few summers ago, on Cape Cod a whale floundered on the beach, a sixty-three-foot finback whale. When the tide went out, I approached him. He was lying there, in monstrous desolation, making the most terrifying noises—rumbling—groaning. I put my hands on his flanks and I could feel the life inside him. And while I was standing there, suddenly he opened his eye. It was a big red cold eye, and it was staring directly at me. A shudder of recognition passed between us. Then the eye closed forever. I've been thinking about whales ever since. Journal Entry
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The journal entry is so lively, so in-the-moment. I get a sense that for the writer words connect him to the world.
Stanza four of the poem stands out for me, it's the people that bring this scene to life.
I keep going back to that journal entry.