This entry is part 39 of 91 in the series Toward Noon: 3verses


The perfect pits
in the snow around
the lowbush blueberry stems

awaken in me
the old urge to collect—a museum
of pots and bronzes,

and in the plaza,
a fountain that accommodates
every coin-sized absence…

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    1. Thanks. I’ve been reading Francis Pryor’s wonderful books on British archaeology, which is what put the sacrifice of metal objects in mind.


      1. It’s rather mysterious, the seemingly universal impulse to throw coins into water, or to hammer them into trees. Sacrifice or bribe?
        I’ve been reading Thomas A Clark’s The Hundred Thousand Places. I think you might like it.


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