For Trish
The day the tide turned at her feet
she discovered her true nature;
a mirror flashed, a silver tail flippe
and she swam into her element.

Now waves swell in her blue-green eyes,
her ear strains to catch her sisters’ song,
and salt dries in the hollow prints
where she walks.

Pearls scatter in her hair, to crown
the changeling, and call to mind
an older charm, the caul, a sign
this child would never drown.