Elegy for a Mermaid Muse

We’ll give her a proper
burial, of course, at sea,

siphon-siren her own song
as she floats along

toward wherever it is that
such creatures go.

We’ll whisper back
the words she gave, spill

them into the pooling
puddled sun,

golden in their becoming.
We’ll sway

with the breeze and say
nice things

about how she in
-spired us, fired us up

and set us free. And then
we’ll set her most

mad and moonly soul
astir, allow

the aching tide
to do the same for her.

 


Prompted by Poewar 31 poems in 31 days, day 8.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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7 Responses to Elegy for a Mermaid Muse

  1. Kir Piccini says:

    Any mermaid (or woman) would love a send off like this…

  2. Misky says:

    At first I thought this about the Blood Moon (eclipse) of last night. Lovely.

  3. I get kind of an undertone of them being not quite enamored with this mermaid. It’s sort of like they are squeezing all the good out of her and tossing the rest. I guess the line “toward wherever it is that / such creatures go” put me in the mood of them not quite valuing her.
    “aching tide” – perfect!

  4. minthe says:

    from “golden in their becoming” down, I was quite moved … my muse is not a mermaid, though; I need to figure out what kind of creature she is … some sort of air or fire creature, or perhaps a combination … I guess that would be a phoenix.

    “And then
    we’ll set her most
    mad and moonly soul
    astir” … This especially. I got sad here, and then the part about doing the same for her. Her life must be very hard, sad, and painful. All she has is her ability to inspire others. But on her own, she feels like nothing. She’s so lonely. There just aren’t words.

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