There I sit in the middle of the room

remember Montauk two weeks ago.

Quiet and empty like this room

just me, my towel, sunscreen, and my chair.

Then company arrived of an unexpected kind.

Seeing water shooting up from the wakes

spurts of ocean spray above the waves,

there were no boats or barges.

The Atlantic Ocean, a giant fish tank

for the largest mammals of the sea.

This school of whales became my company.

Whales washed up dead along Long Island beach shores in recent days,

struck by boats or confused by sounds

from windmills placed inside their homes.

Not here by Ocean Vista’s desolate beach

seagulls and plovers dip in and out of tides

as spouts like sprinklers spray up like fire hoses.

Huge fins appear like they’re dancing on shimmery waves with the reflective surface of sunlight.

This welcome calmness of an empty space reminisces me back to a Montauk moment.