The Hawk, the Mermaid, and Me

Today,

a hawk circled

for an hour and a half overhead—

watching.

Hunting.

Below, I floated,

cocooned in water’s embrace,

held by something older

than gravity.

She was there too—

a mermaid Barbie,

cast adrift in the shallows,

clothed in the most incredible gold

I have ever seen.

Sun-kissed.

Spellborn.

The hawk wanted her.

Or maybe not her—

maybe what she meant.

A glittering lie.

A forgotten offering.

A girl’s dream wrapped in plastic skin.

And I—

I did not save her.

I just watched.

Watched the predator.

Watched the glitter.

Watched the story

unspool above me

like a thread made of sky.

And part of me knew:

I have been

all three.