The Bride

Indigo paints horizon beneath metallic blue.
Mermaids aren’t always visible to the naked eye.
In glint of midday sun I spy her,
Ebony hair cascades a silk tapestry
in rhythm with the sea.
Covers her garment of oyster thief
and peacock feather.
A pufferfish bag
hides a grey muscle purse, silver lined,
open, ready to receive.
Steely scales shine rainbows from slippery tail.
On her lap, a fishbone comb.
She hums a strange, unfamiliar song.
Leaning forward, fingertips tiptoe through.
Bladderwrack, dulce and blue algae
searching for a marriage pearl.
She lifts carefully, raises to the sun,
admires with glassy, opaque eyes
young as today, old as the world.
Her euphonious voice breaks a ponderous silence.
Mellifluous tones tremble water.
Her groom, salt white, washes her feet.
She is home.