The Lorelai.
8.31.06
I row beside a castle
on the Rhine,
The turrets reaching
toward the sky of blue.
The vineyards on the
hills, untouched by time,
Transport me back to
years I never knew.
Out from the zenith of
a nearby hill
Come sounds of song, so
tempting and yet pure.
She cries out, "Komm
zu mir!" I fear I will;
But fear begins to
fade, slain by allure.
Then, crash. The
wreckage of my ship does float
North, down the river.
Flotsam, jetsam, filth.
Before the black, I
turn to see her gloat—
And yet, her face is
tragic, wracked with guilt.
The ancient siren
pauses, her eyes fey,
As turn I from this
place and walk away.