Past Meets Present

Fifty yards from Crooked Creek
a soft breeze blew through the cottonwoods
on a Kansas farm.
Dust muffled voices are heard through
the sound of metal and other hand tools
hitting the soil.
Unearthed pieces of pottery, a stone pipe and
shell beads from the Gulf Coast
amongst pebbles and dry soil.
In the dark colored ashes
scattered corn cob remains
and remnants of buffalo bone
let one know they stood where others had lived
and lingered long ago.
Voices of present became quiet as the sounds of the past
hit the sound waves proclaiming. “We were once here.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.