Into the marsh she glides

every night at five 

No one know where she goes

or how she returns so spry. 

It’s an older woman she is

until she sinks into thick

gooey muck to her knees

wrinkles gone from her neck 

Old when she enters gnarled and bent 

she walks out young and tall 

Although curiously inviting 

and very beautiful to the eye

One best bet is never to try.   

One should never look into

the gray-blue waters of the sea

Once there you’ll never return