Dolphins leap out of moonless darkness from swell to downwind swell, their bodies
shrouded in neon. Microbes make this cool light, flash like tiny fireflies, paint what
passes in a glow translucent and green. The illuminated swimmers assemble in a V on the
boat’s bow wave, array themselves like southing geese. There is no effort to their
progress, ten knots without labor or sweat, speed with ease. Contrails of light stream trim
and true behind, mark this smooth passage.
Someone once announced that this behavior comes down to feeding, to falling more
swiftly upon the baitfish dolphins prey on, to the advantage of mobile ambush, to the
reality of eater and eaten.
Forget all that as you lean out over the sea and look through the sheath of food. Behold
the perfect light of beings being what they most are.
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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 43 | Spring 2014