Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Can your history be about me?

By the Broch, outside Keiss, there stands a memorial.
Without words it recalls work past about past,
Tells the tale of one gentleman amateur's fascinating fascination.

a story more explicitly told up the road in an old school,
In a series of snippets of pleading letters.
One side of a conversation divorced from response.

He had his people dig,  and others build,  each time, 
a memorial to amateur archaeological endeavour,  his endeavour, 
writing large the human frailty that seeks permanence in face of death.

He seems to have actually done a fairly sensitive job for his time and training,
But I can't help but wish I had the money to throw up a permanent memorial every time I think I've done something worthwhile...

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