They drove in silence
and brightness of dawn.
They drove in the strobe
of dawn bright in trees.
They drove in brightness
through brightness
into a whale like a storm
like clouds humped black
at the motorway’s end.
They drove in silence
and brightness
and blackness
into a whale
into rain as fat as pennies
into the white noise of rain
as fat as pennies
into the static fuzz of rain
and brightness
where flyovers were gasps
in the white noise of rain as fat as pennies
gobfuls of air
grabbed in the grapple of drowning
in the white noise fuzz
of rain as fat as pennies.
They drove in silence
over miles of worn pelts and feather
flattened beneath a black anvil of cloud.
They drove in silence and rain
through silver pennies
and smudged pelts
into the gape of a whale
and a crushed wing
lifted in their windy wake
turn around
come back.