Don’t Listen… #Poetry

My new elderly neighbour
over the fence one afternoon
Asks, can I sing you a song?
My husband, standing in our patio doorway
Mouth open, a giant O
Silently screaming no, flapping his hands
Too late, I had already given my permission
How was I to know she came 
from a long line of ancient sirens?
My husband clapped his hands over his ears
My mind floated slowly into a dark space
I could see nothing
Her sound, amplified into unspeakable beauty
My husband dragged me indoors
before she could end her song
I was ill for three days
Late afternoon, I still hear her sound
My mind sways towards something unknown
that I wish I could catch
She has never asked again
Now there is a sale notice on her house…

©AnitaDawes2022