The source of the poem is here.
*************************
What Will Survive of Us Is Love
A team of excavators find
Bony lovers intertwined.
Flickering light illumes
Their prior-day Arundel Tomb.
*************
Atop a terraced slope,
Their bodies yield to isotope:
The crania of their burial bones
Have been pelted by occultic stones.
February 25th, 2015 at 3:29PM
Lovely, particularly considering the story behind it. Reminds me to just a small degree of Stevens “A Postcard from the Volcano:”
“Children picking up our bones
Will never know what these once were”
Etc.
February 26th, 2015 at 10:49AM
Greg: Thanks.