Poetry Daily: http://www.poems.com/

[Sirens]


I'm not Penelope married to faith married to waiting
bound in fine soft strands of silk dyed and stretched
in my world longing has teeth and fins has a taste
for blood longing is a room built entirely of knives
all edges facing in all points afire and also somehow
held to the vessel in my world sirens are the town criers
saying something's happened and maybe to you saying
someone got too close to danger sirens are the past tense
of rescue meaning clean-up in aisle three where
the glass racks have fallen before the mast where the sea
rose up between the meat and the waiting where the bed
refused as usual to become the boat where the dead
drape and tangle in the rigging the sheets in the loom
and the sirens gather to wail flicker and shine where they
gather together to sing of damage to sing us home

Leslie Harrison

The Book of Endings
The University of Akron Press


To view this poem online, visit the Poetry Daily archive at http://www.poems.com/archive.php