Friday, January 13, 2012


To return is to
turn into yourself.
As an archaeologist
carefully brushes years
of dust aside
to uncover the pieces
of symbols of life
left behind,
I parse my way
through odd things;
crumbling relationships,
disintegrating memories
seeking some fundamental truth--
only to find that the heart
of the substance
is the dust.

1 comment:

Susan said...

It is possible that this is my favorite one yet! The tone is so poignant, ideal for the theme. I love the imagery of an archaeologist and the repeated metaphor of dust and the disintegration of memory over time. It's a beautiful poem and I look forward to reading through it several more times. What a beautiful start to a new year of writing!