The three stood beside the creek
looking down unto the patterns of water
parting
due to rugged projecting rocks.

The red clouds rolled into the clarity
through which daytime
reached down down
into the blue-green-yellow-ish minerals
at the base.

A mermaid’s arm lay
outstretched
on the bottom
nimble as the twig
just about snapped
from the pushing-pulling water pressure.

Her greening hands,
pointed up trying to grasp fluttering sunlight,
were too weak,
for they could not even hold themselves together
as hopeless in such waters it is,
but her face never showed distress,
pain,
anger,
but was cool as the flowing water
as calming in such waters it is.

The mermaid,
never a loud creature
blending in and dissolving with the rush of water,
everyone wanted see
as her wavy hair dominated
all over the creek.

Three innocent minds
have been captivated and seized
for this came so suddenly,
and the three never seen a mermaid before
on the creekside lying
so young
so weak.