Thursday, September 3, 2009

The Mermaid

Blue-green, aquamarine water

sifts and coils

in its’ own intricate dance

that I have no choice but to follow,

my tail entranced and constantly moving.

I tire

of the incessant journey,

and my voice often warbles

as it drifts in the air,

luring sailors to lean over the sides

of those small wooden vessels

in which they expect to safely traverse the ocean,

all too often falling over,

into the water they realize

too late

they don’t want to be a part of.

I don’t pity them.

They had a choice,

and they chose to make the ocean

a large part of their life,

rather than using spindly legs

to run from the life-sucking water

as quickly as they can,

breathing in gulps

and gulps

of thin, largely salt-less oxygen.

My weariness remains –

I have no options –

yet I am strengthened –

through anger

with humans

who have the chance to do almost anything,

and far too often,

do nothing at all.

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