Yesterday,
Nereids opened sleep-blessed eyes 
in subaquatic crystal caves, not knowing 
they’d never return.

Yesterday, 
Nereus washed his hands of his daughters,
sent them in mists and drifts over selkie rocks
to play with the seal-maidens where he did not
hear their incessant laughter
reminding him of shared grief.

Yesterday,
A lunar mind hemmed in fifty sisters 
behind calcium carbonate cement.
Like soaked night ladies paid to stay pruned
in a hot tub, they perch now in the tidal pool,
waiting for the day cousin sirens might appear 
to teach them how to wreck 
passing pirates for a meal.

Yesterday,
their bellies were full of mahi and mackerel and man, 
and their silvery hair glimmered in sea-filtered sunlight.

Yesterday,
they knew their father loved them.

Today —
sudden survival mode.

Honorable mention in this contest: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2831191-National-Poetry-Month-April-26th-noguest