Mermaid


It was the change in her hair she noticed first

growing now like harsh thin weed

but attached

firmly

attached

and inedible.

She tugged at it

but the pain was too great 

to separate it from her head.

And then her scales

began to disappear

her beautiful shiny scales

washed away with her gills.

Her brothers and sisters

and the rest of the school

swam around her still

but she couldn’t hear them,

couldn’t understand 

what they were saying.

The art of communication

had been lost

washed away 

with her gills.

What was she now?

Neither fish nor fowl.

Fowl,

where did that come from?

She ran her fingers over her skin,

still smooth

unfeathered

up to now.

She waited

waited to see what would emerge.

Then the next wave came

and carried her

to the beach

so she crawled along

the sharp sand

uncomfortably 

on her swollen belly

until she found a rock 

and clambered up

then slithered down

algaed slime

into a recess

a safe cave

a haven

with a shallow pool

left by the tide,

a birthing pool

she thought

and she knew 

that the next tide 

would bring her sustenance

while she waited to see

what would emerge.



https://spectrumfantasticforms.blogspot.com/2021/08/lynn-white.html




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  Let’s Dance “I’ve been dancing in the rain,” you said. You didn’t need to tell me, I’d seen you in the distance doing your Gene Kelly thing and more than looking the part. Perhaps I should tell you to act your age but I’ve given up on that. And I won’t tell you to dress your age. You’ll never dress in old women’s clothes. And I’m glad about that. Orange and pink are grand and Gene Kelly would be lost in an envy of black and white regrets. So jump in and I’ll give you a lift to get you out of the rain. Or maybe I’ll park up and join you in a dance even though it’s raining and I’m not dressed for it. Yes, I think I will! https://visualverse.org/submissions/lets-dance/
Read more
Image
  Getting Better Things can only get better, that’s what she always told her little sister. Things are getting better all the time even though it doesn’t feel that way. So eat it up! It’s important as Jane Eyre said, to keep in good health and not die. So eat it up. And save a little for the cat. https://thedrabble.wordpress.com/2022/01/12/getting-better/?fbclid=IwAR3hCtjd2q1CtdDOLr_RcCH2u-RtaPzjQSQ_ELWMN3kcpMaIxJRM_9u_z_o
Read more
Image
A Fictional Account This story is fiction. Made up. Made up like a face. First the base, the foundation, then the shadows and highlights, the blushers and sparklers, the reds and the blues to add interest and shape. Then lines for emphasis. Black, thick night time black, outlining the fiction. So, there was a base for this fantasy. There was some foundation. Even a made up story has some links with reality. A spark from a dream, an inspiration from experience, mine, or yours,  or someone else’s. Something written, something sung. A word, a phrase, a line from someone’s life, their fantastic real life, or imaginings. becoming real in the telling, when the make up is removed and the secrets are revealed between the lines. http://www.lulu.com/…/true-…/paperback/product-23068717.html
Read more