Poetry 365

Hans Christian Andersen

The Little Autistic Mermaid

I just couldn't look her in the eye
Even as she curled upon the rock, rocking.
She slowly flipped her tail
Aware of her nakedness.

The first sight of her made me clench
And I devoured another morsel,
Even though I was not hungry,
Even though I was not willing.

I couldn't recall her shape
Even though she was still right there.
I could no longer speak
It was as if I never knew how.

I flicked another bogie.
I rolled it in my fingers
And lined it up neatly
With all the other I'd picked.

I saw that she saw me
But I needed to remain.
On track, on track, on track.
I wouldn't change direction.

Later, back at the home,
The old man asked me if I saw her,
But I wasn't sure,
Who I was...

Hans Christian Andersen, Danish…

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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