Archaeology was my chosen field,

Artefacts and pottery sherds, that sort of thing

Above all I strove to date that

Bronze Age hair those white thighs, her

Confusing layers of strata.

In muddy trenches our

Trowels clashed and one wet field trip

We excavated each other.

Epochs later I observed her digging in a charity shop

An old ruin now,

A bit like myself

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To walk among ruins is to realize the fragility of life

To connect with those who came before

To observe commonalties,

To puzzle at differences

To marvel at ingenuity

To hear their voices echoed in stones that have stood for thousands of years

Inevitably, to misunderstand the message

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Brontosaurus, welcome back

When young I thought you were long dead

But later heard you’d never lived

That was what the experts said

Thunder lizard, once you roamed

Jurassic ground beneath your feet

Then gone, removed from history

Written out, obsolete

Now they say that Marsh was right

And your position is restored

The bones are yours and yours alone

No more a mere ...

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