From the sea, she walks ashore, seal-skin slips
from her body, she stands now unadorned,
save for shimmering hair unbound and flowing
down her back, laced with dulse, she whips
this hair round her body. Girded thus, the sea foresworn
from her human form, she lingers; yet captured
by the sunlight, body glowing, hair in sea-wind blowing,
hearing her lover call, she turns then, bewitched, enraptured.
NapoWriMo, Day 20 I started out trying to write a kenning, “calling something not by its actual name, but by a sort of clever, off-kilter description,” which was today’s prompt. I didn’t quite manage the kenning, but I did write a san san, “an eight line poem using three images repeated three times and a rhyme scheme that goes: abcabdcd” for Jane Dougherty’s poetry challenge.