Have you read the myths of selkies come ashore?
Of seals that molt their skin and emerge in human form
To walk among men, in likeness?
Such creatures born of Celtic lore
And Norse oral tradition, bred through stories told and retold
Of their wanderings from the sea.
Their magic raiment, disguised as oiled, dark hair
Is their return fare to sparkling waters and though may be shed long
May not be lost, or ever shall they live on land, parted from the sea.
At winter’s end, the harbor seals return to the bay
And rest their bellies upon the timber pilings when the tide’s rise allows.
Crowds flock to the rocks along the bayfront to catch a glimpse,
Not bothering to look for pools of oiled, dark coats hidden in the crevices,
Their gazes fixed only upon the ripples in the water’s surface.
And so, the selkies wander freely here and walk about the land in day
And slip into their skin each night, returning home to the cool waters
When they’ve grown weary of the shore.
cozy does it 