Poetry

No Map Required

For much
of adolescence
my destiny was
archaeology,
embracing a
certainty
that I would
traverse
undulating
blankets
of desert sand
reading
ancient scrolls,
reclaiming
lost pyramids,
and mummies,
and hordes
of gold
but now,
old . . . “er,”
I’m content
seeking
odd
little
stones
from creek beds,
treasure
redefined
by
time

Categories: Poetry

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