Dolphin

Locking on at Rubha nan Clach
The pod skews in from starboard,
Raiding our attention in arcs,
In sinuous tandemed leaps,
Skeltering, rollicking, our wake
Then closing fast upon the bow,
Closer than any wild thing would,
Their sentience like a magnet,
Muscling the water in easy competition
With the taut sail and its captive crew.
Broaching like torpedoes,
A pair race hard below the rails,
Swivelling scarred bellies
For our enthralled inspection
Or circling like a subway gang
Coralling us in their echoed net,
Mammals, breathing, together.
Then, as suddenly, they’re gone,
Fins slitting the water a mile off,
In search of cod or better craic,
Our short confidence exchanged
For the wide excitement of the sea.