Saturday, February 11, 2017

Archaeologist, Historian, Poet

Speaking to the past: Your lives will end, but two thousand, three thousand years from now, we will be learning what we can of your daily existence. Please leave us scraps, flakes, shards, scratches in stone. We will even listen to your bones. Sprinkle your bones with flowers, and we will hear even more.

We can't know ourselves without wanting to know you.

Archaeologist, historian, poet.

The afterlife: Art, poems, the good work you do now that will enhance all the lives to come. Scraps, flakes, shards, scratches in stone.

Our bones. The pollen our sorrow leaves behind.


reveals hundreds of
portraits atop landscapes

1 comment:

  1. In stone pockets; the keys of tomorrow's door; final sands.