Swimming with the fish in my hair,
The scales of a river ripple upon the dusk's fresh
scum.
I skim through, hugging kelp, breathing water.
 
What music is mustered in these hushed paths?
The greenery is lush.  Mollusk-husked, I gather
moss.
Locked droplets plummet.  Slime-slick flecks
sprinkle.
Groping towards bottom, in this silvery dark I glow
neon.
My fins sprint, torch licked.
Driven flints of blue filaments flicker in this
nebulous
Camouflage of ship-gripped reflections & wave
Plowed undertows...
 
A thousand eyes beckon from the stillness of that
sheen.
They throb in the current, correspondent to stars.
 
The dawn comes & you find them, a beach comber
Scavenging, your foot soles baked a tough ruddy tan.
Amid this glitter is my legacy:
The skeletal fish tails, shark's teeth, spines.
 
You collect them as shells & thread their glitter
Through a  necklace.
They mould bronze emblazoned to the fire of your
skin.
You dance with this marvelous music in your air
floating,
Water damp hair.
 
That's when I sway with you, an evocation reborn

© 2003 Stephen Mead  

Stephen Mead at 123Soho