Castaway

From this grey moon-dust
I see my home rise
as a child’s marble –
remembering
the games, tunes of childhood,
my mother singing “Hey Jude”

or thinking of your ring
a cabochon fire opal
catching sunshine
as we kissed when we danced
to Oasis as morning broke.

Castaway with no way back
I watch for home to rise
from jet night, ribbon stars
firework comet tails threading orbits

think of you asleep beneath
a water blanket encasing
the home we knew and loved before

I left for this desert, no island
no disc, no luxury but only
my thoughts, memories and love
to hold until they rescue or air expires.