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Searching the Woods for an Old Cemetery
For William Tod Mixson
The trail to the cemetery is mostly sand
Layered with leaves, debris, and memories
That fell upon the land, and were absorbed
Into the forest’s ancient unities
If a geologic catastrophe
Immortalizes the marks of our canes 1
In sedimentary rock, the future might wonder
What strange tripeds lived in the distant past
When a couple of ancients, you and I
Along this trail roamed under a winter sky
1 But surely not the Mark of Cain?
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