The Selkie

By Linda Ruzicka

Her husband lost at sea
these seven years long past,
the widow walks slowly along
a lonely moonlit beach
Gazing outward, thinking about
the specific rite she had followed,
seven tears were shed into the sea
now to return at high tide.

Seals swimming among the waves,
one turns inland toward the shore;
rising and stepping through the foam
the selkie sheds his sealskin,
concealing it among the rocks
He smiles lovingly: reassuring her,
his appearance so resembles her dead husband;
he turns and takes her hand in his;
walking towards the small stone cottage,
together they go into the fire lit room
closing the door quietly, firmly.

In the mists of the rising dawn,
a shadow slips out the door
toward the endless pounding of the sea;
turning once, hesitatingly looking back,
he dons his magical sealskin
heeding to the ocean's call
he hears her murmur once in her sleep;
softly, her husband's name.