So Far From Home

So far from home, anywhere on this planet
Empty-head dreaming
Hands in pockets like Brando so long ago
Trying to do some time with the God of the universe
Walking alone as day sags into the alleys
Into the cathedral in the center of town
The old priest reciting the Queen’s Spanish
I stand at the back of the open-air narthex
At the furthest direct reaches of the inner light and
It fades as I walk away, back to the dusk
Past the wrinkled women talking, not to me
Past the shacks, beside the gutters,
Under the canopy of red sky.

After the 1000th century will there still be
this aching and sense of loss?