Siren by Night
Inside the warm night she moves as though swimming. Hands in her pockets, headphones on, dark eyes on the moving shadows and what she knows lives there. She eases through scattered groups of night people virtually unseen.
Drawn towards the water and into the deeper part of the night she pauses to listen. In these times the night lives with sirens and the squawking of angry junkies.
She wants to stop and weep as her sisters weep.
She is part of this orange light washed strange world. Part of the dirty street and urban lost.
Her steps relentlessly eat the blocks until the water is only yards away. The susurrus of waves breaking against the rocky strip of “beach” calls her home.
In the dark, she sheds her clothes and boots before walking headlong into freezing water to sing illusions into the hearts of men who pass.
In the deep, she will feast.
She will feast and see her sisters for a blessed night.
And then she will return to her shadows and streets and urban land life.