Along the high plateau the rivers drain
Into the pale pellucid quiet lakes.
Here golden vipers hide within the breaks
As smaller rivers wind across the plain.
One ruined temple in the greening cane
Home to the jaguar and a nest of snakes,
Yet in the autumn moonlight there awakes
A sad and sallow ghost from out this fane.
She walks among the stones beneath the stars,
And weeps for all that was, and what is gone.
Slim shafts of moonlight stream like silver bars,
She often sighs so softly, yet so long,
Though fails to conjure up her avatars,
And so she walks until the amber dawn.
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Submission Name: Temple of the Jaguar
