Image by oscaradameportillo from Pixabay

A Siren In The Wild

I thought her a statue at first,
a wavy-haired siren cast in stone,
rising from the black mirror
of the Guadalquivir,
but then I saw she was moving,
a ripple-less swan glide
powered by a single paddle,
the sole sailor in that smooth twilight
when all else was safely moored,
I watched her silhouette until
the night enshrouded her,
she coaxed from me a smile
a thousand others failed to raise,
ensnaring my attention in a way
no pavement-treader had,
I did…