The Sea Maid’s Reminiscence

(to Hans Christian Andersen)

I miss sea glass, my grandmother’s pearls

coral music in the whirlpools

the icebergs on the moon,

when the moon is

floating topside on the waters

the ships of doom retrieved.

ladders of angels.

most of all, I miss speaking

where I’m heard

ever my mind a bell from far

distances in the Dream Time

ever the wave’s repealing improvised

and not dancing on swords;

the fragrance of the frangipangi

the simple accords

of water and light

the depths where I

am out of sight.

mary angela douglas 7 july 2019