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THE DIGGERS
The diggers eyed the massive pile,
Their minds in quiet ecstasy,
To them 'twas not a garbage heap,
The stuff of Archaeology.
The mound was high, the labor great,
Rewards were slow, the glory late.
Yet finding clues to how they lived
Was worth the boredom, so they sieved
The layers, And the hope they state?
To learn from them, the ancients', fate.
Ross S. Olson
Send comments to me at ross{at}rossolson.org
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