The sirens sit in a green field
and warble him to death
with the sweetness of their song.
Homer, The Odyssey
Ghostly beeches in Winter’s crisp
spread ochrous wings,
and siren call,
“Come, we beseech
and implore
and beg and sing —
Leave the path and
tramp the muddy ground
through ferns and leaves.
Come beneath our wings,
our pale protection,
our comforting arms.
We’ll guard you
from loblolly ghouls
with heaven-piercing stems.
We’ll lay you down
with softest rotting logs,
and moldy turf,
And moss you over
with fairest green
like dripping sponge.
The anxious squirrel
will race over you
and rest content.
The worms beneath
will squirm in peace
and fear not the crow.
By us, you will
sleep forever
in Eden’s forest.”
— Photo is a “ghost tree” beech
in a loblolly pine forest near Chapel Hill, NC
Bluster & Absurdity 