A young woman holds
a mirror out to the sea
as she sings a simple, sweet song
to a cloud which lingers overhead.
You want to ask her about this
but you are afraid – afraid that she
will forget the song
and the small cloud
that is your only shade
will slip into the arms
of a retreating wave;
afraid she will turn the mirror
on you and you will see
not the small, happy youth
but an old man who walks
bent over and unbalanced,
threatening to fall into the earth
with each shaky step;
afraid that this young woman
will slip away into the sea
and your selkie dream
will shatter on the nearby rocks.