Jul 10

All That is Buried

Warriors cannot stop
contemplating exile
although they want
only to sit

Hand caressing cheek
dry eyes closed now
because who
wants to see

What happened since
pottery was buried
future hints
no one holds

Without the clay handle
of jugs we question
such redness
such brown cracks

So we become cracked earth
racked with reasoning
an arm flung
over our past

What we want is such repose
on naked knee
by digging

Dirty clothes need to be washed
thinking won’t find
lost tent pegs

But I cannot stop this digging
in the dirt to find
the thinking
Jew displaced

In the tomb of burial gifts
we learn slowly
alongside weapons
and donkey bones