Archeology of a Life

It takes a lot of dirt and time and pressure

To be turned into a fossil,

But I like to think about my life sometimes

As if it is a dig site,

Full of people and places from my past,

Some of them still jutting from the surface

Dating all the way back to the Elementary Era

Or perhaps the High School Age

Or the Adolescent Period,

While other people from those same times

Have already dove beneath the dirt

Without another trace until

Perhaps I find them in a core sample of photos,

Or small bone fragments pieced together from my memories,

Or I rediscover them trying to unearth more than is on the surface of our mutual acquaintances.

It amazes me how little pieces

Tell all these kinds of stories

And there is so much that has happened

That was forgotten from our old identities,

Perhaps within an evolution

That we didn't know was happening,

Or great asteroids we will never find the crater for.

Some might even blame flowering plants for such catastrophic events,

But the truth behind some mass extinctions

Will never be completely certain.

In any case from where I am,

A lot has been lost from history

And may not show up in the fossil record,

But just because you didn't fall into tar

Or wind up encased within good sandstone

Doesn't mean you didn't leave an impact here.

Whether you still have your secrets

Or let them all be excavated,

I hope you know that you were here

And life as it exists today

Could not have been without your presence.