water slaps featherless bottoms, tiny mammals chewing on pine cones

predators not learning how to swim or hunt, are they waiting to be eaten?

bigger versions, still no fur, elders paddle with long limbs, looking at the ones

at shore, maybe floating to lure food. they have no greeting or signs, do

they see us as we are here, living with our children and lovers, calling permission,

two, three, six times? to the wind and dirt, each of us knowing our turn,

should we pass the message and go closer to smell with a hello?