The Fisher Man's Lover
She is there every morning he is not.
Nearly materializing with the misty dawn,
Leaning carelessly against the sea wall.
describe their dinner order
until they see she has no means
and other intentions.
She knits while she waits.
In her head a pattern combines today's heartbeat
ith the yesterdays of her ancient sisters.
They also stood at this wall
knitting charms into sweaters for dangerous work.
Celtic cross, ridge and furrow,
berries, ropes, raising ladders.
Then more seriously,
marriage lines, tree of life.
She counts the stitches,
the pattern appears.
She never looks at her work.
Her fingers glide, she is a graceful conductor.
She looks to the sea
as if in a moment her lover will appear,
a small chalice the ocean bears
carrying her fisher man to shore.
The mermaid cautions:
"Drink, for soon he'll be away again"
(the mermaid's hand draws too near to his face)
The girl pauses at her task.
Her eyes mingle tears, salt and wind.
Her heart fills with the importance of being loved.
Her hands return to her work as if this is necessary,
as if these threads are the keepers of her lover's fate.