Archaeology

Walking along a road, diagonally, through someone's house briefly and back out where there isn't a door across their vegetable patch and eventually over the bones of some buried unknowns. Cows are currently grazing in someone's hallway, while a tree grows in the kitchen. As I walk, I trample through a Roman bath where in a different time a rotund, well fed Roman is relaxing in his water. My next foot down stamps the hand of a warrior who has just fallen to the sword As he, in his battledress and beard, lays in someone else's hearth where a herb-filled stew is being cooked. I tread effortlessly over walls and pits, rooms and murder scenes, above oceans and below oceans. These layers of time leave layers of life which layer the ground silently screaming voices and echoes of stories once told. There will then be a layer to come where someone will tread their feet over my life, my house and my bed.