Beginning to End
I swim underwater, the billboards
enticing land with sunlight--
where things drop out and we wonder
where did they go?
A billow, as if there were no clouds
beneath the water, naked nectar
in an amethyst cup. Mermaids asleep
on the bottom as if their faces,
across scattered stones and grass,
had caught fire and were extinguished.
The hotel on the Jersey shore a pale-
liquid shadow, a wooden ship anchored.
I remember drawing mermaids,
their breasts uncovered,
and thinking it was racy.
Kristi Nimmo writes in Virginia. She also loves to paint, teach meditation, and travel. Her poetry is often inspired by her sojourns. She has poetry published in Psychic Meatloaf: Journal of Contemporary Poetry, Mouse Tales Press, and Numinous: Spiritual Poetry.
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