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Spectral

I stood aloof, in solitary revelry

amidst tombs of princes long deceased

whence grew a hymn sung to a psaltery

speaking of men beatified from an age had ceased

among gargantuan wats and upright obelisks

submerged in a continuous outpour of relentless tourists

yet liminally ignorant of the commerce running brisk

between their beheaded Buddhas and crumbling cupolas.

 

I walked through stripped soil of scattered green

Strips of forgotten histories, and stories screened

 

It was then I heard,

haunting refrains of invisible bulbuls

layered with chimes of an Aeolian harp

proclaiming awakened muses & princes, sirens & sprites

who gave release to their phantasmagoric debauchery

engulfing me who clasped a Nikon to my bosom

raised as it was to the spectre when the spell broke

the ghostly dance dissipated

with a soft click of the shutter.

 

A spell never to be recalled from a print that captures

that moment of uncanny solitude

so all I could see now is a garish facade

of a civilization dead and cold.

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