Sirens’ Call

Roots twist through the deep you cannot see

My own prompt for Dorie Snow/雪多丽 May Flowers Poetry Prompts here

Write about a flower that shouldn’t exist.

Why shouldn’t it exist?

Where did it come from?

What happens when it blooms?

What does it want?

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Along the shore where tall grass sways

And tide pools gather black as coal

Luminous flowers bloom inside the caves

Half buried deep in silver soil

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They open only after dusk

When moonlight touches the sleeping sea

Their petals white as whale-bone husks

Their roots concealed beneath the reeds

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No gull would land among these blooms

No seal would surface near their shore

No life can thrive in their dark pools

No nearby waves with thundered roar

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Yet still the fishermen draw near

Boots raw with brine and salted sand

For something sweet drifts through the air

And calls to them from marsh and strand

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And when a man leans down too close

To breathe the fragrance from the bloom

The whisper drifts soft as smoke

And draws him shoreward from the dunes

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At first it comes beneath the wind

A cloying voice inside the tide

A woman humming low and sweet

Somewhere beyond the waterline

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Then in the dark he hears it clear

Between the crash of waves at night

His name unfolding through his tears

As softly as a lover’s voice might

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The women watch from up on land

As men wander toward the shore

Tracking wet footprints through the sand

Long after midnight stories told

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Mothers nailed driftwood to their son’s doors

Wives burned salt herbs and said a prayer

Some filled their men’s ears up with wax til sore

And spoke of flowers to beware

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Still every season more men come

Drawn wandering through the reefs

Past swaying reeds and moonlit caves

Toward flowers gleaming sharp as teeth

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And always there beyond the tide

Where black water consumes the stars

A shape would wait beneath and hide

Still as the sea before a storm

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At first they’d see only her hair

Drifting below the silver foam

Flowing like a drowning prayer

Men reached for strands they could not hold

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Then delicate shoulders beneath the murk

Two watching eyes within the waves

A mouth curved softly in the dark

Knowing she leads them to their grave

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The men walk deeper into the sea

Water climbing cold to their cores

Their lantern flames begin to flee

Like dying stars along the shore

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When at last she rises enough to glance

For moonlight to reveal her smile

Her teeth shine white and sharp as fangs

Beneath her beauty something vile

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The men press on though their ending grim

As though they see no danger there

Until too deep they have to swim

Their eyes reflecting silver hair

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“Isn’t she beautiful?” they sigh

As black water entombs them whole

Devoured and smiling the whole time

Their blood the only proof of them at all

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Next night the flowers reappear

Blooming beside the calm seaside

Roots twist through the deep you cannot see

Feeding on the graveyard below the tide

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The Sirens’ Call blooms every night

In marsh and cave and hidden cove

Along the curves of moon bathed shorelines

Where doomed men wander far too close

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Share the tale of how the Sirens feed

When their song unheard in melody

For all the warnings men do not heed

Luminous flowers lure them into the sea

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Thank you for being here.

For choosing to sit with work that isn’t polished for comfort, that doesn’t soften its teeth. Writing is how I exhale the pieces of myself I can’t carry quietly. It takes time... between work, life, dog, and all the little ghosts trailing behind me. If my words have found you, your support helps me build my career as a writer and keeps my heartbeat alive. 🖤

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