First published in Breakfast with Swallows, 2017

Along the path, giddy wild geraniums jive,
petals in a fierce in-your-face indigo - beside such
true blueness, the sea fades to silver-birch grey.

The sun, no more than a misted mirror, is held
tight in the arms of jade-green fields, rich yachts
dwindle to mere thumb-prints on the horizon.

Mermaids, tired of their own voices, are invisible
to the naked eye, the only clue, a jewel-dazzle
of scales as they hitch a ride on the incoming waves.