1.

For centuries pregnant gray whales
came to Lagoon San Ignacio
to birth their young. They bonded
with their calves undisturbed.
The young matured within the pod,
preparing for the annual migration north.

When whalers discovered the lagoon—
Kill the babies. The mothers will come—
slaughter bloodied the water. Raging females
rammed the boats, perfect targets
for the men who dubbed them Devil Fish.

2.

This morning Lagoon San Ignacio flares
in the rising sun. A gray whale surfaces
near the tourist skiff. One unblinking eye
fastens on a woman who returns its gaze.
The whale breaks eye contact, nudges
its calf closer to the boat,
close to the woman.

Reaching out slowly, she places her hand
on the young whale’s head. The mother
holds the woman in its line of vision.

They rock together in gentle waves,
in this forgiving silence.

CJ Muchhala lives in Shorewood near that Great Lake, Michigan. In spring and fall you’ll find her in the north woods where she has seen a bear with 4 cubs and watched dragonflies flitting to the music of bullfrogs on the Wisconsin River. Her poetry has been published in a variety of on-line and print journals and anthologies, exhibited in art/poetry collaborations, nominated for regional and national awards, and even won a few.