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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2244275-Second-Chance
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Contest Entry · #2244275
She vows to never forget... but what will she remember?
She'd known fear before.
Furious storm-lashed land; rocky coastline shrouded in mists.
Respect hard-earned for the raging seas of Teran, the spirit of winter;
unforgiving ability to snuff out life; screaming its voice of horror,
mountainous waves pounding rocks smooth o'er aeons.

This was different. This was Man, and he terrified her.
Twin babies stolen away minutes after emerging from her body…
wet and slimy still. She’d thought giving birth was painful,
had moaned and groaned, imagining herself alone in this barren cove.
But he was a hunter of vast experience,
ears ever ready to catch any untoward sound;
feet ever ready to approach as secretively as the softest summer breeze.

Unceremoniously stuffing the two babes into his sack,
unable to halt the mother's escape—
wet, seaweed clad rocks a giant slippery-slide.
The Hunter couldn’t turn away as she resurfaced, bobbing up and down at the rocks’ edge.
Mesmerised by great melted chocolate eyes, vast pools of grief. Crying?!?
And was it his imagination, that dismal groaning, he wondered,
or maybe the sweet voice of the ‘Sea Mither’—the soft summer sea,
the benign bringer of warmth and calm for all life?

IT'S NOT YOUR IMAGINATION, MAN.
WE DO HEAR EACH OTHER ‘THOUGH WE SPEAK NOT A WORD.
PLEASE GIVE ME BACK MY BABIES!
PLEASE! I BEG YOU!

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU IF YOU DO THIS THING FOR ME.


Now the Hunter blanched, whispering, “A Selkie? You’re a Selkie?
Spluttering as he hastily undid the bag, “Thought you just an ordinary seal. I didn’t know, I swear.”
And out came the pups, already sucking on each other's lips as if at their mother’s breast.
Handling them gently, he lay the squirming babes down on the rocks
A great loving growl rumbling as the mother clasped them to her.
Once again, eyes spoke volumes and the Hunter’s heart heard and rejoiced.

A sharp slap of her tail and they disappeared in a great swirling whirlpool,
The Hunter left wondering if she honestly would ‘never forget’ him.
Would ‘remembering’ be the pain of loss? Or the gratitude of restitution?
Only time would tell.
As he was but a young, unmarried man on this day.
He wondered…


(37 lines)
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2244275-Second-Chance