Poetic License – Albany

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Siren’s Call

Sirens Call

by Laura Lee Lucas


I have not learned every tongue whose speakers take up sail

and rope. When you pass in a swirl of wind and foam,

without words, I can only sing.


The clouds are heavy, the water the deep green heart

of a hundred feet down.


What you hear are the words

your love dreams of speaking.


The song hides me in a veil of beauty.


Below wait the haunts of fish who burn with their own light,

of scattered bones that once surmounted the waves,

high ribs of wood enclosing golden hearts.


The clouds are heavy, your face

gleaming brightly in a sea of fearsome shadow.


What is the darkening of your eyes, the sinking vessel,

compared to the song, the clouds, my loving arms?