TO WATCH AT REST

A mermaid lies beached in shallow concrete rust

As winter wisps spark in technicolour dusk

Chained, suspended in a tree crook slumber

To peek through cracks at the travellers’ rumble

Shielded white, their masked patron saint

Vogel’s girl guards garden’s gate

Tarpaulin swan donned an anchor’s dress

To sate the masses at the Smith’s behest

Pups chasing tails on the Great West Road

Now a mother’s charge to watch at rest



Their cries caught fire, exile’s last marks to save

Spare a draped mermaid from an unmarked grave

Over Holland’s hope, lonely kaleidoscope

Floating, falling slowly in leafy brushstrokes

Her voice runs with the hounds on Black Lion Lane

While the spoked steel doves preserve night’s bane Perching proud on sunken clouds, under Peter’s wary eye

The maid reclines into dark and waves solemn goodbye