My scales shimmered and swayed with the tides. I was reared to marry the lighthouse keeper. After choosing land and limb even though my hair is seaweed and my curves are made of waves, I romnatiscied being a maiden, not realising it was transitional, unlike my siren's call.  Next came motherhood  and the years shift as they do  Now I am a lighthouse without a keeper Where do we find ourselves when we are alone yet never alone  I stay upright most days, save when I bend or creak. Losing millimeters, Still and tall, even in motion They are older now, the charges that marked that transition, the need more and less, ebbing even as I listen for them to breathe in and out.  Still I lmake sure to leave a light on and  Fold the clothes, holding fast against the eroding coastline of life.  Obligation changes it's meaning And I find myself with a light that would want to dim and fewer ships to steer clear of the clifface  Day can be as dark as those sto...