Of course others claim to adore you

but I need some time together, alone.

Born of some distant continent

you took lovers, lived a stormy life

and aged whole ages before what-

ever I may be happened along.

And what do I have to impress you

besides a clutch of words, promises

I may not be able to keep?

I land too far away and despite

knowing you don’t heave any sighs

in my direction, believe you will

still know me when I return to

your weathered shore, quiet airport.

Dear island north of emptiness/

south of madness, dear detached,

somber rock where I will lay my head,

while murmuring an archaic song

for lichen to hear  –  accept my heart-

felt paean as you would returning tide,

returning sun.

---

Allan Lake, originally from Saskatoon, Canada, has lived in Vancouver, Cape Breton, Ibiza, Tasmania, Melbourne and Sicily. He has won Elwood Poetry Prize, Lost Tower Publications (UK) Competition and Melbourne Spoken Word Poetry Fest, and his poetry has been published in The Hong Kong Review, Quadrant Mag, Cordite Poetry Rev, The American Writers Rev, Tokyo Poetry Journal, The Antigonish Rev, New Philosopher and The Fabians Review. His latest chapbook of poems, “My Photos of Sicily”, was published by Ginninderra Press.