A Beached Mermaid Hair the color of sunset, like curled waves that brought her up to the shore of my pool Tanned “skin”—smooth as plastic never damaged by the sun. She bathes on slats, surely uncomfortable though never a complaint heard. Indeed as I bend over to hear her speak, though a siren, she utters not a sound. Still she smiles unaware of any danger, trusting as a small child with arms open to the possibility of friendship. -Gene Ann Newcomer
