The swan boats motionless
up out of the water
the pond turning to a mud
flat
the flowers, tulips
shimmering
in yellows, oranges, and
reds
The grasses by the shore
sways
the lawn right to the waters
angles and shapes
in the wet mud before me
catching my eye, drawing me
in
There in the mud shining
bits of the history
of Boston, of America,
ancient pieces of plates
and pipe, nestled in the
dirt
Bits of clay, of pottery
long since discarded
trash of that time
the day to day jettisoned
finding their way to be
bottom
an archeologist’s dream
====
edited August 4, 2014
Bits of Clay – v2
February 12, 2010
Bits of Clay
Boston Common,
being drained for cleaning
at least 20 years ago
All
of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004,
2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. All rights
reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage.
See all 31,520+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
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