Orca

when the great white whale died

there were no carpet of stars rich enough to wrap up his soul and bury it

no coffin even crafted at the hand of man large enough to freight his corpus

the sea in a curious inversion of his ways ferried the whale as if in tribute to its only son

across that vast and terrible sky jet black with ravens in congress

and with as little effort as a Roman empress carried aloft a palanquin by foot soldiers

in a libation to the Goddess Aurora

all 13 moons saluted him and grew silent and speculative at his passage

for they 2 would join him one day