THE LOST PEOPLE

Posted by Admin on Friday, 21st March 2008, 00:00

Ancient Mayan temples stand:
dark with sacrificial sin
lie forsaken altars – and
green profusion closes in.

Priests and Batabob depart,
ochre-daubed, brazilwood dyed;
sculptors, potters, leave their art,
art the rain-drenched jungles hide.

Cotton-picker, mason, hind,
tiller of the maize-sown ground;
all have gone – lianas wind
thro’ their hovels, thatched and round.

Life has left Old Yucatan,
graven artefacts remain;
culture runs its given span –
then the forests win again.

NB: Batabob – the territorial governors.

T. C. Hudson
© T. C. Hudson.

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