From 'The Woman who turns Herself into a Fish', Eavan Boland

a pale

swimmer,

sequin-skinned,
pearling eggs

screamlessly 

in seaweed.
It's what

I set my heart on.

Yet
ruddering

and muscling

in the sunless tons
of new freedoms,

still
I feel
a chill pull,

a brightening ,

a light, a light,
and how

in my loomy cold,

my greens,
still

she moons

in me.