Gone from my sight

I see an offshore rowboat
oars shipped, and seem to hear
a lap-tongued invitation
a whisper from the waters, to spirit away
to your side. And always I recall
our stolen escapade that day
over the Serpentine, beneath the bridge
passers-by imbibing our laughter. 

One October you sailed, solo
a hurried crossing. No warning, 
no time to map the nebulous way
towards the blue light. Gone from
my sight. I pray you did not linger
upon the Lethe, lulled into oblivion.
Nor felt the purgatorial pull of all
the left-behinds - but played them
as a cine film of someone else's making. 

But please do not forget to anchor there
and haul me safely up that farther shore.

Notes: In Greek mythology, the Lethe flowed around the cave of Hypnos and through the Underworld where all those who drank from it experienced complete forgetfulness. 

Sarah invites us to take to the waters with her poetics prompt: Come Sail