the smallest of these, any of us
Here is what you will find, looking back -- two small bodies scurrying across a landscape wild with cultivation, serious faces creased by the bow string, hand movements irregular trajectories speaking a secret language.
Looking back, digging through the strata, here is what you will find -- a pile of artifacts unceremoniously laid to rest in the driveway, shards of mixing bowls and a microwave, evidence of a small herd left to roam within the acre. The door had been locked and the gate had been pulled to and yet.
Two small bodies, iron objects you can imagine as once obstinately chugging through the sky. Round shot fired from the field culverin; hark to the mingled din.
Looking back, digging through the strata, here is what you will find -- a pile of artifacts unceremoniously laid to rest in the driveway, shards of mixing bowls and a microwave, evidence of a small herd left to roam within the acre. The door had been locked and the gate had been pulled to and yet.
Two small bodies, iron objects you can imagine as once obstinately chugging through the sky. Round shot fired from the field culverin; hark to the mingled din.