Friday, March 3, 2017

Not A Mermaid

Sometimes she jumps, dolphin-like--
an arch of hope and then
breath, light, cool rivers of wind
over skin still wet.
She sees--off, out
even to a horizon!
And after--the smack,
the inevitable downing,
strange weight and slow
movement and everything
only through a sheen of water.
If only she could learn
to ride these waves
all the way in to shore.


1 comment:

  1. I've been there, but I doubt I could describe the suddenness wherewith elation becomes letdown as vividly or as skillfully as you've done here.

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