87. My Megan is a Fish

Our time in Greensboro's almost done, my lovelies. We head west on Wednesday. Today we had our last day out my parent's lake house. Kids running around, grownups with beer coozies (damn that's an awful word), steaks on the grill...and Megan running for the water like a little kid to an ice cream truck.

Our next-to-last day in the Cackolack;

our last day with my middle brother Brewer.

so we went to my parents' lakeside shack

where lies my naiad Megan's favorite lure.

If you get this girl near a bunch of water,

she shucks her clothes for swimsuit in a flash--

she's like some giant human-faced sea otter--

and won't get out for hours, or love, or cash.

A mermaid slipping through the silky flood,

I catch her grudgingly emerge for air.

She swims as do erythrocytes in blood,

at home in Neptune's flowing liquid lair.

To watch her dive and race sets me alight;

I'm caught within her tide, my water sprite.