Monthly Archives: September 2018

The Quarryman

The Quarryman
721 The quarryman surveys his lot,
With years of mining done.
The layers of the earth lay bare,
Most granite stones expunged.
725 And underneath those mighty rocks
The secrets of the land
Revealed themselves to quarryman
From pebbles and loose sand.
Throughout the project he had found
730 The types of myst’ries three –
The first of which were things you hide
For never to be seen.
Quite early in the harvest dig,
He chanced on a sealed box.
735 He fumbled for his heavy spade,
Then struck the pesky lock.
Within were letters never sent,
A love that could have been.
But some revealed a jealousy
740 Akin to spiteful sin.
The box was hidden here one day
To aid someone forget –
A purposeful concealment of
A cache of life’s regrets.
745 The second type of thing unearthed
Were knickknacks that were lost.
These treasures found beneath the dirt
Weren’t missed so much as dropped.
The man collected pennies and
750 He had a stash of beads,
But as he dug still further down
He found antiquities.
An arrowhead of flint revealed
A tussle long ago –
755 Perhaps a battle ‘tween two tribes,
Or hunting with a bow.
And as the quarry rocks were broke
By years of strain and toil,
A fossil may appear as proof
760 Of life lost in this soil.
Now as the project starts to wrap,
The quarryman looks up.
He sees the final mystery
A hundred yards at once.
765 The layers show not something lost,
Nor hidden for to find,
But rather something that has grown,
Developed over time.
The folds of earth show gradu’l change,
770 The shifting of the plates.
And rising granite falls submerged,
A sed’ment cap its fate.
Some pass their days by searching hard
For meaning or for loot.
775 They search and seek without relent
Like hunters in pursuit.
But quarry shows this laborer
Things hidden, lost, or grown
Need not be sought, but can be found
780 By looking ’round alone.


<< Previous Poem (The Fisher)