Mermaid Poem by Morgan Michaels

There it was- an image
made of droplets, bringing itself intofocus
the watery isomer of an idea
however tenuous-
Tail, head, tail, tail, head.
ancient enigma, not reallly pretty,
yet, bewitching.
Was it dangerous? Could it see me?
indirectly, I saw, only in the water's glass,
if I wished it to.
'Choose', said the hologram,
like a a hand cupping my head.
Where to focus?
therewas the muscular tail
that could knock a man clean
across a quarterdeck,
its flukes ragged and split
banging the floorboards,
its glitter revived by a bucket of sea-water
The sickening barnacles, sea worts, the loathesome remoras,
stuck to it like growths
I touched...