Excavators

Nothing is silent as sunbronzed hands unbury mounds of shifting sands. Nothing is quiet as speaking stones and sighing dust and sometimes bones

leave not a fragment, not a shard without its footnote, afterword.

Like signers unfolding for each other the messages that when unfurled, fill the silence of a silent world,

everything bridges what gaps might lie in this dialogue with yesterday.

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

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