In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

26 Mermaid’s Funeral When my cousin Charlotte drowns, they close the lid, lowering the coffin like a submarine. I watch her drift off in her narrow boat to live under an ocean of grass. I spy her from my sleep, another kind of sea, where she arranges shells and cups, setting up her floating dolls, her teddy bears for tea that won’t stay in the pot. She ventures lonely out to play and swims up to the roof of her garden house to walk the edge like a sleepy acrobat. I wake to scribble notes in the garden, leaving letters under rocks and invitations in trees. Since she won’t be back for birthdays, I dig a hole for her candled cake. She lifts her mask of leaves and makes a wish with rain. ...

Share