Like flying fish, scaly winged weirdness
dreams breach the surface of the bed
iridescence spurts into the cold room -
what contrast to this new morning, locked in blue.
Colour-bows ripples across the white duvet
all is sea - a distant reef calls
I slide again beneath, sink,
but do not drown
back to the old bluegreen realm
where a sea-mother presides
lidless, sleepless, ever-wary
over countless eggs unhatched
