A minke whale passes under andrew peacock’s kayak in neko harbour in the antarctic peninsula
From Chemin faisant
At sea
The haze
has us
in a slow, pink
and grey
confusion; everything
we know -
the horizon,
for example,
and the distant
ridge of land -
has vanished,
the boat
glides without a sound
over a sea of curled
and luminous glass,
there are clouds
in the sky wherever
that is, and clouds
in the water,
and maybe
we have entered heaven
already, the happy boat
sliding
like a bee
down the throat of a huge
damp flower.
Some birds,
like streamers of white silk,
approach us, crying.
Ah, yes,
how easy,
how familiar
it seems now,
that long
lovely thrusting up and down
of wings.
Mary Oliver