The calamity of seals begins with jaws. br Born in caverns that reverberate br With endless malice of the sea's tongue br Clacking on shingle, they learn to bark back br In fear and sadness and celebration. br The ocean's mouth opens forty feet wide br And closes on a morsel of their rock. br br Swayed by the thrust and backfall of the tide, br A dappled grey bull and a brindled cow br Copulate in the green water of a cove. br I watch from a cliff-top, trying not to move. br Sometimes they sink and merge into black shoals; br Then rise for air, his muzzle on her neck, br Their winged feet intertwined as a fishtail. br br She opens her fierce mouth like a scarlet flower br Full of white seeds; she holds it open long br At the sunburst in the music of their loving; br And cries a little. But I must remember br How far their feelings are from mine marooned. br If there are tears at this holy ceremony br Theirs are caused by brine and mine by breeze. br br When the great bull withdraws his rod, it glows br Like a carnelian candle set in jade. br The cow ripples ashore to feed her calf; br While an old rival, eyeing the deed with hate, br Swims to attack the tired triumphant god. br They rear their heads above the boiling surf, br Their terrible jaws open, jetting blood. br br At nightfall they haul out, and mourn the drowned, br Playing to the sea sadly their last quartet, br An improvised requiem that ravishes br Reason, while ripping scale up like a net: br Brings pity trembling down the rocky spine br Of headlands, till the bitter ocean's tongue br Swells in their cove, and smothers their sweet song.