I learned to swim underwater, emulating Flipper, long before mastering the
Australian Crawl or butterfly. My daddy insisted that I practice more conventional
Strokes, but I knew that mermaids and the fishes cared nothing for such
Artifice, preferring instead a supple undulation of fins to any manipulation
Of useless arms. I eschewed splashing in favor of rhythmic kicks and leg extensions
Gliding beneath the surface with measured breaths to surface giddy with freedom.
Swim if you will with mermaids three, Barbara, Irena, and finally me.
We swim together in the warmest seas, as the scent of salt air floats in the breeze.
Our tails undulate in time with the waves, while we frolic and sing all of the day.
Fish bubble our names and swim by our sides, slips of bright scales into the tide.
Alas at day’s end our tails start to shrink, and legs sprout anew, shiny and pink.
Then off we go to our respective lives to masquerade quietly as respectable wives.
Praying for Eyebrowz 