The Change

At the river mouth, acres of silver
shallow enough to stroll in; the tide unturned.
With a mermaid's easeful swish, I trail
soft legs behind my walking arms, roll over
to watch the promised change: fringed by light,
a paw of cloud grows from the horizon
to arch over that lurid dome, command
an amphitheatre of coast and sea.
Now I'm swimming on oil, on ashen silk
dimpled with white gold. Back in my body's
full weight, I walk the surface of the sky,
disrupting it, then look out from the shore at
raised drops, nipples of water. Platinum rings
spin out on brimming shadow.