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Poetry "Shall I Compare Thee to a Backfill Pile?"
April 27, 2000
by Patten Linn Drake

When ARCHAEOLOGY arrives I drop everything I am doing (which isn't all that difficult to do) and read it from cover to cover. In January 1998, you were kind enough to send me extra copies of your magazine which included an article on Mostar, one-time home of a Bosnian family I knew. They were so very grateful. Admir informed me that he was putting his "under glass." That was quite payment enough for the use of my poem. Thank you again.

The Creators

With jagged charcoal and stone,
Metaphoric beasts are limned
By first-fire's light
On eon blasted walls.

Carved with blooded tools
From massive megalith,
The Boy-King-God
Enters eternity.

Celled monks, rheumy eyes
Blinded with glory,
Burnish gold into
Holy auras.

If there were no artists--
Would there be Gods or Saints?

Back to Poetry

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© 2000 by the Archaeological Institute of America
archive.archaeology.org/online/features/poetry/drake.html

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