Each day he seems to loose 2 pounds,
In contradiction of his bulky namesake;
But when this Walrus’ bones settle in the ocean’s belly,
Its sands will slough only freckles off his wrinkled back.
His impermeable hide will go on weathering eternal tides.
Or so he thinks,
As he goes plodding over snow banks and ice shelves
To lie alone on the bouldery sea shore,
Turning apart from the pack he needs more and more.
He’s been known to fight whales, bears, and men,
Who venture too close, in search of soft spots,
And that’s without the tusks of his namesake.
This one lays low when much dangles above him,
As if his brain is unequal to the rest of him.
You may wonder with me,
But Wally doesn’t consider these things.
On a shelf, above a full ocean bed, he dreams
Of tearing apart mollusk shells and little else.
Thus the brazen calf sauntering near, barely draws a snort,
Though he senses her approach, and readies for a tiff,
When under her pestering he doesn’t yield his back.
Yet, she’s not repelled by Wally’s aloofness,
The loving calf watches with twitching whiskers,
Eager to re-position his mind in its proper place.