Friday poem

I'm posting an original poem every Friday for a year. This is 14/52.

While Working in the Garden I Uncover Evidence

Of An Advanced Civilization

These are clearly signifiers of some precocious science, materials that will not degrade, colors still bright after so long under compost and mulch.

Some resemble small birds or horses.

What if our own children had diversions of such simplicity, such durability?

But I’m keeping my find to myself.

I have no use for academics roping off my property,

wiping away my topsoil grain by grain with a small sable brush.

I have tomatoes to plant.