By | 1 February 2015

What whales are now began on land – the shores
of Pakistan – and slowly shed hind legs,
resorbed as relict stubs of bone that float
inside the body, cartilage as memory
that returns in freaks when genes that code for lost
traits have been retained; but front limbs grew
to pectoral fins, DNA scrimps, so that what
already existed was co-opted to new use –
fossil genes that remain, beached, a dream
of a shape beneath the water’s surface,
long snout, feet webbed, that trawls ashore, snorts
air and rests beside the river, lake or marsh –
as it dries the pelt is wet with sun. Today,
this first fathered day of spring, blossoms fall, and seeds.

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