The Excavation

for my father, on his first dig at seventy

1.

In this dry, stubble field
a thousand years ago,
a nameless tribe lived
where two rivers joined.

Now with sun pressed
to aching back
you dig through chalk
and marl.

Then down
among the layers you crouch
with a tiny brush.
The shards you seek
no bigger than a thumb,
or bits of bone
to tell you what they ate.

2.

To tell you what they ate
rd have to take you back
to where they sat
at the table: your sons
and daughter.
It might be
early morning, before
the schoolbus comes,

...