the last animal [quincunx]

we are
lonely,
never thinking
about the species of beetle
that buries birds
and other small
animals, this is
their sole duty

we are
grieving.
there is a whale
in the great ocean
that speaks
at higher frequencies,
his cries falling silent
on the ears
of his brothers.
he swims
erratic lines
across the waters.

are we alone
in the universe?
is not the question.
some chemistry
is directing
the structure
and frequency
of our language.
we are not in communion,
each night in our individual plots
we are asking
why are
we so alone
on a full and blooming earth?