Lament for a Dead Sea-Otter

HEEDLESS of dirt and uncombed whiskers
She keeps her lone regard
Not for those dream-attended baskers
Or romping herd.

Mindful of the search over the water,
No familiar yelp,
Seeking the furred and watchful lover
Through the kelp.

Asleep in the island-lapping shallow
Where the waters suck,
Lying with crossed paws in a hollow
Is Amikuk.

Rather than return to wave with the others
A clever, lonely paw,
She would be where the gull its sea-hoard gathers,
Where he is now.