The Mermaid of Elsinore

He climbed it slowly and patiently,

gripping the slabs with stiff fingers,

slipping and falling often until...

at last he stood

at the summit

and looked across...

...the whispering dark.

It seemed to him that he himself

was a creature of the sea,

a seal, a dolphin, or a sea lion

made human by some heartless magic,

magic like that which had given the mermaid legs

in the story that had made him cry long ago,

cry at the thought

of the little mermaid

dancing

with her prince in the big castle in Elsinore,

dancing the minuet

while at each moment

the white hot nails of the land

pierced her poor feet.