the mermaid

it's unusual these days
to meet a mermaid.
but it happens.
I was fishing on the banks
of the river
the other day
when I snagged one
on the tail,
she swam in closer.
crying, shaking her wet
head of hair.
do you mind, she said,
could you get this
hook out of me.
you leaned over and cut
the line, then wiggled
the hook, with the worm
still in tact, out
of her scaly long
fish leg. sorry you said.
you had brought
a lunch, so you offered
her a tuna sandwich
and a pickle.
which she loved, perching
herself against some rocks.
you poured her a glass
of chardonnay from your
picnic basket and lingered,
talking until nearly dark.
you talked about what's it
like to be a fish,
a mermaid, half woman,
half flounder.
she opened your eyes to
a new world, an underwater
world that you
never knew about.
oh, the stories i could tell
she said, laughing
in a dolphin sort of sound.
she helped herself to
a bag of cookies that I
brought along then said,
I really must go. her long
green gold tail glimmered
in the vanishing sunlight
as she finally swam away,
but you are
optimistic for a second date.