Yesterday
we walked hand in hand
across time’s long-worn tracks
where once a temple stood
of lines curving into secret circles
and man knelt in prayer
your hands and mine
reached across the waters
to caress an outcast rock
icon of solitude
altar of sacrifice
crucified against the sky
in a sea devoid of logic
an island burned but not consumed.
Today
I sit and watch
a lonely island rock
awaiting your return
in hypnotic trance
midway between waking and sleeping
in petrified vision and ossified dream
I hold the hand of absence.