Late at night, the house keeps time with sleep and moon-rays.
The cuckoo wall clock’s truly a chalet.
Its chimes play strange nachtmusik.  Waken then
and walk slowly down the Hornisgrinde
in mist, part of a funeral procession 
for the sorcerer king, leading to an emerald sun
rising in the Mummelsee. The lake’s green doors open 
to usher ghosts down a staircase to the depths.
A staring fisherman meets you on the top step.
The man who lost his wife then fell in love, hoping
the reflection of a dead girl on the lake would be his bride,
light and gold of hair. His outstretched hand shines faintly.
It’s said he waited patiently, without complaint,
for her until he died. He waits now. You decide.

[Author’s Note: German legend holds that, deep in Lake Mummelsee, reside water sprites whose enchantments lure men to drown there.]

[Matt Schumacher has published six poetry collections, most recently the prose poetry chapbook A Missing Suspiria de Profundis. He lives in Portland, Oregon, and edits the journal Phantom Drift. ]