Monday, November 23, 2009


Of fern bed:
crow feather, shell fragment
chip of bone then petrified
tennis orb, further down
shard of soccer sphere
treasures I uncovered
this morning burrowing
through the mess and mulch
of fall's leavings -
the annual excavation of ancient
Octobers when the yard
was fodder for kick or hide
chase/pretend -
thankfully the skeleton
days have returned
it's fossil time again


Tongue Trip said...

what a picture weaving string of words. i read it again. very much like it, the terseness of truth sometimes.

Pam said...

Thanks, terseness perhaps, though I don't know about truth. As you say- sometimes, maybe, but not's what I see.

Anonymous said...

The God of Bacon says that the difference between archaeology and dump picking is the age of the dump.