the 52-hertz whale

We listen in on the line, like CIA ops
on a covert mission abroad
Unintelligible language crackles in our ears
garbled voices like someone speaking under water

We’ve been cruising the oceans for years,
making use of borrowed equiptment:
our Navy-issue hydrophones record
domestic struggles between ocras, the humpbacks’
intra-pod disputes about migratory paths,
the elongated tones of two blue whales singing
to one another, their calls and responses echoing
amid the hum of the broad, dark sea beneath our bow

Lately a soloist has peaked our interest
a high, insistent call like no other before
a different sequence and range, unique—
we’ve analyzed the patterns, tried matching
the peaks and troughs of the sounds
to other known callers, we’ve tracked the movements
of this one-whale show, meandering across the Pacific
playing each night a different venue (but never a packed house)

Our reports conclude: older, male, traveling alone
sporting baleen and barnacles like yesterday’s stubble
his 52-hertz bleat is unlike any other we’ve encountered
wandering for miles, searching whole oceans for a matching voice
we read in his treble tones a plaintive call for companionship

Isn’t that what we each hope for?
And don’t we drift likewise,
searching open faces for a glimmer
of soul-deep recognition?
Don’t we each crave a unique listener
or two for our particular song?



(disclaimer: this is the first poem I've polished or shared in several years, so I'm a bit rusty at this. That being said, any and all critiques are welcome.)

Also, to listen to this whale's song, go here: http://www.pmel.noaa.gov/vents/acoustics/whales/sounds/sounds_52blue.html