She leaves the sea
naked as a porpoise
to run the beach
for the pure pleasure
of breathing hard
Her mother’s blood
assures she’ll never drown
and her father will not burn her

In dappled light she weaves
no shroud
awaiting no one’s return
No voices interrupt, demanding wine
or promises

On her loom leaps to life
a rogues’ gallery
of her tusked and grunting men
the shaggy lop-eared curs
the antlered bucks in luckless rut
astonished hares
and tragic-stricken goats

Weaving, Circe sings
hymns to sun and sea
and singing, weaves
tapestries that please her,
threads she will never unravel

[Sandi Leibowitz is a native New Yorker who writes speculative fiction and poetry, mostly based on myth and fairy tales.  She has long loved the beauty of the pagan goddesses and gods, in all their many forms.  Her fiction has appeared in Jabberwocky, Shelter of Daylight, and Cricket.  Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in magazines such as Goblin Fruit, Mythic Delirium, Apex, Illumen, Niteblade, and Eternal Haunted Summer.  She sings and plays classical, early and folk music with Cerddorion, Choraulos and NY Revels (among other groups) and does indeed own (and poorly play) a beautiful fish-skin drum.  She fell in love at first sight with the Danube River from a plane going from Prague to Budapest, and fondly remembers a gorgeous night-time champagne cruise on that river after a folk performance in Budapest.  She loves to swim but does not wrestle except with the occasional Erroll-Flynn-look-alike, and then only in the most friendly fashion.]