as once the sphinx
asleep in the sands
so clear now upon excavation
my mind wanders
a, lone, last, resident, heart
incoherent, time travel
to a place, a palace of emptiness
a tomb, once resplendent in the adornments of love
a blooming garden in the sun,
long gone –
dilapidated ruins, strewn columns, passing uncaring tourist feet
wanton blind, I travel the path, to the lost oasis, armed, with no reason
a fool’s journey of temporary reprieve or warm habit had
but old empty hands itch
for anything to grasp
and so this goes
my fantasy, once reality, my past
a proud worn marker once, leans down broken,
half buried in dirt once mud, discarded, on a side road
forgotten by some
haunted by others
tethered by one

notes… Of course I am fascinated by the pyramids and such… the sphinx was buried until pretty recently, so imagine the sphinx sleeping for a time, where the meaning maybe was forgotten, but have I made a monument in my mind? to my love… yes, maybe, and then the years pass and you forget, for a time, but then maybe revisit that monument, that love, buried a bit, worn, but never gone, that is what I was feeling here, and the gist of the thrust of the poem… as usual it came up upon me and just wrote, the first few lines just popped into my head.