between wave and rocky beach
that marks the furthest reach of the sea,
I find, half-buried in a bed of kelp,
a curious lucent closed pocket,
tendrils dangling from each corner,
so named a mermaid's purse.
Within, a tiny dogfish quivers alive,
waiting for the moon to rise,
the waves to return,
life to begin.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9B8zew1nHWMH315hjSV4iY-rKbMbPYP64D88izdaGH8jZgflzjcVWGwQSyB0yjodVqin3_FYbwBxvNMW_6E542wjAWUDtgaFfHU_yoMcSzJ-YNxdc9e8rxtiix-FQbYojPVZBQ/s320/44+Brough+of+Birsay.jpg)
Photo taken at the Brough of Birsay, Orkney, Scotland, September, 2009.