Dolphins

Dolphins

It is too early in the spring

for the sky to weep 

in streaks of pink and mauve.

Too early for the seagulls

to flee, in folds of chrome

and white.

Too early to give up 

what is loved

but owed.

The dolphins too are early,

their heads bobbing up

in rhythmic unison, six laps from shore,

the perfect canon.

Yet you can tell from their eyes,

the mournful slope of their heads:

theirs is the dance of longing

for something that is not now.

2003

Laksmi Pamuntjak