RUINS

And this was a civilization
That came to nothing--he spurned with his toe
The slave-coloured dust. We breathed it in
Thankfully, oxygen to our culture.

Somebody found a curved bone
In the ruins. A king's probably,
He said. Impertinent courtiers
We eyed it, the dropped kerchief of time.








"Ruins"
from H'm
background image: st. Hywyn's church's window