lorelei

along this rock-strewn bend
in the main vein of germany,
where in historical tales
wunderbar maedchen
would sing their songs,
in their sirens flirted
with passing sailors hell-bent
on passing the time interwined
in this land of mosel wine.

now upon a jut in the land,
a rock adorned with the german flag
keeps watch over the winding
sluice where barges run loose
beneath the trees.
a stein above the rhein
an anchor of a landlocked region,
st. goar is famous for hospitality,
where sailors would spend
the night with romantic sirens
and give prayers of thanks.

now stores with steins
stretch between the alleys
and under medieval arches
raised as fortificatins
in the days before gunpowder
when sieges were the norm
this town had its own
bakery, pharmacy,
livestockery,
well, brewery,
where five hundred people
huddled to outwait their attackers.

now the snackers, the backpackers
the knick-knack trackers
have turned this region
on to a new medievalism.
fortified upon a cliff
this high-on-a-hill hamlet
as european culture frowns down
from the precipice of days past.