Another short poem.
About two more and I'll be through.
This one is called, "Envy of Other People's Poems."
"In one version of the legend, the sirens couldn't sing.
It was only a sailor's story that they could.
So Odysseus lashed to the mast was heralded by a music
that he didn't hear.
Plungings of sea.
Scuds of sea wind.
The offshore hunger of the birds.
And the mute women gathering kelp for garden mulch,
seeing him strained against the cordage,
seeing the awful longing in his eyes,
were changed forever on their rocky waste of islands
by their imagination of his imagination
of the song they didn't sing."