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Cetacean is a word I carry with me into the forest. Also dophinoid. My ears are a spectrum. I watch the pine cones for their songs. Come with me, let's bury this old world in its proper sand castle. We can travel in cars, it's okay. I'd swim there when the water is rough, singing all the way. Something frozen, something boiling. Give me a place to walk and I will. Give me back a few words that tell the truth, if there is any. I'll store them in white socks in the attic of rain. Thunder for a lullabye. Endings, endings, never happy or sad. Like time, weather never tells its secrets.