Mermaid's Song

In my weathered swing,
sheltered by the warming sun
I sit looking out across the tides.
The seas churn and moan,
singing a mad mermaid's song.
The winter days are long and lonely.
I watch the surf toss up her useless tokens,
offerings of driftwood and black seaweed.
The recent storm has passed,
resignation dents the sand dunes.
At land's end, yesterday's dreams
haunt me like broken seashells.
They float me to places
I don't want to travel to.
Their cries drift on unseen currents
whispering through the sea mist.
They coat everything with dampness.
My swing creaks softly on the wooden deck.
I pull my sweater closer as the shade descends,
the wind chills my numbing fingers.
Watchful of the sea's mindless treachery
I softly hum the mermaids song
wishing for the warmth of summer.