Ten Years Gone

He lost all track of time, I expect
he was thinking of her once again
tuned into his tunes the only time
he felt in touch, up there
roaming the platform mounds
of Monte Albán, so far from home

    The Castle, Druganaut, Run Thru,
    Stone Flower, Atlas, Ten Years Gone
    the list goes on (and on)

He never lost track of time
but here he wandered lonely as he was
allowed, afloat on the ruins until
sharp, distance, thrust back
into the moment he ran to the meeting point-
but the bus had departed without him

His guide stood stoicly by the sign
doing his best to appear diplomatic
    'I hope you don't mind paying
    for a taxi back to town'

He couldn't complain, he'd lost
track of time, adrift in the past
gliding through the mounds the temples
bursting with the music and
the myths of all the ancient histories