Michael H. Levin: Poems and Prose
EARTH’S ACCIDENTS
The Dead Sea scrolls were mostly saved
by bribes and threats; unmindful finders
re-interred the rest in hopes of
gain. It vanished or decayed.
A trooper in the Greek campaign
blown by a Wehrmacht mortar down
a limestone chute, glimpsed there a lettered
chest -- lost masterworks? new plays
by Sophocles, perhaps. Never
reclaimed: the next round covered it
up again. Fountains of blazing
loam, then forced retreat -- the blasted
ground left no remains of site-map
to be guessed. Great Aztec wheels;
Lascaux’ red bulls; dried funeral garlands
of Neanderthals – all brought to
light by restless chance: a dropped hoe
or a wandering goat. Vast evidence
unknown, we stand on ranks
of shoulders buried deep in earth
a fragmentary tune, made by the
breeze against a bone protruding
from a crumbled canyon wall.
Version first published in Scientific American (Oct. 2021)