Amphitrite’s Rage
Isobel Russell
Softly, she calls to me,
Her fingertips caress the sand as she sings in lilting whispers;
Ethereal, silvery fish slip between their mother’s fingers,
Stirring her elegant turquoise robes.
A mess of blue-green kelp hair drifts on the surface,
Adorned with anemones
And seashells that shimmer pink in the dying sunlight…
With every word of sea-tongue that she sings,
Orb-like bubbles stream from her blue tinged lips.
Pearly eyes gazing, she murmurs secrets of eternity.
Her serene, enigmatic beauty stirs something deep inside me.
Suddenly, she rises out of the shallows,
Up, up, up,
Her jade jewellery strewn on the water, forgotten.
An unforgiving storm tears the night sky apart,
Vicious daggers of moonlight illuminating her face,
Making her once-pearly eyes malignant jet black.
Shrieking mercilessly, she gouges the cliffs,
Claws raking violently.
The tide heaves madly, in time to her shallow breaths,
She thrashes wildly.
A tornado of tangled black hair whipping in the bitter wind.
Her inky lips twist themselves into a serpentine sneer.
Lurching forward, ready to engulf me…
Closer, closer,
I recoil in horror
Closer, closer,
I ready myself for the final strike,
Closer, closer,
And it never comes.
The sea smiles at me gently, serenely,
Inviting me towards the calm shallows,
Like she has forgotten.
Oblivious to my stunned face,
She reaches a glistening star from the night sky
And fixes it fondly in her hair.
She closes her eyes, breathing slowly, as if she is asleep.
Waiting.
Waiting for the sunrise.