Archeology

Image from Archaeology and History of Medieval Sherwood Forest

I cannot find you

Cannot unearth you from the press of past days

I looked for your color, your unfamiliarity –

For truth be told, you slipped past me without seeing

And slid sown that slide of sand;

I fear you buried, hidden as photos are

without light and hands.

Ariel

April 14, 2015

Why: an early poem

Why

When my world falls apart,
          and the world’s full of lies;
          why are you at my door?
When I don’t know who I am
          or if I’m fit to live;
          why do I find you here?
When I held a razor to your throat,
          and cried to the dark of the moon;
          why did you stay?


Ariel
August 1991