Photo: Helen Ree – http://www.helenree.com
That the moon was a space-hopper is no coincidence.
That the Merman surfaced isn’t either.
A Mer-maid knows well a Siren song –
and heeds its call.
If The Moon sent its message betwixt total eclipse and gibbous,
then the Merman riding waves is Poseidon.
If the mermaids and dragons still need feeding,
then Poseidon either lied, or is hiding.
Barnacles are hard for a reason. They are armour.
The flick of a Mer-man’s – or a Mer-maid’s – tail will give you whiplash.
It is also likely to render you senseless.
For senselessness there is no remedy.
Mer-maids avert their gazes because they have a million tomorrows to attend to.
The River of Life runs somewhere. The Mer-maids know this.
They know the lore of the oceans, too, hence their relevance.
They wait – trust – patiently. The Moon knows what to do.