The Truth in Folklore

Unspoken

There is a certain distance across
which many things become
insignificant. The seaweed green
hair of the girl you saw in the water

out of the murky train window can
easily be forgotten now that you're
halfway across the world. She's
ribbon-thin and seems to laugh up

a melody woven in the rumbling of
the train and crashes of the waves.
Unlucky siren caught in a nest of
folklore. You'll soon see her in a

gallery. Her vacant eyes and you
in your lucky sailor's uniform,
wondering about modern mermaids
and the cost of train tickets.