The Sound Beyond the Dune

The sound beyond the dune
was the gasp of a dying mermaid.
She was beached on dry sand,
her breath pointed and urgent.
'I'll help you,' he said,
but could not shove the heavy tail
which flopped down with decision.

'I'll help you,' he said,
and tried to heave her arms
and noticed her back,
marked by a shark
and the wicked sting of a ray.

'I'll help you,' he said,
but she was dreamy with exhaustion.
'No matter,' she replied,
'I've swum the seven seas, and loved a Chinese sailor.
I've seen battleships and tankers
and had coral in my garden.'

He scanned the empty dunes where the wind waved at the grass.
'Please, be strong,
and the tide will come and lift you.'

She had been a beauty,
but there were molluscs on her flipper
and weed throughout her hair.

'The tide will come and lift you.
You'll see again your garden.'
'No matter,' was her whisper.
'I loved a Chinese sailor,
and swam beside a dolphin,
and diverted a torpedo.
I passed the locks of Panama
and bathed in San Francisco.'

He searched the far horizon
for signs of higher water.
Her cheek fell on the sand,
from her mouth came foamy bubbles,
her eyes were dead as fishes'.

He sat beside the body.
'You loved a Chinese sailor,
and gardened in the water.
You died beside a human
who lacked the strength to help you.'
A tide of salty tears
sprang up from within him
but not so much of sadness
as tears of recognition.

Graham Buchan