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I lost myself in the moment and found myself for a lifetime
Archeologist (For Gerald Steinacher)
– LBelans
​
He plants his feet
on the hardened earth of forgetting
excavating horror and hope
from sealed vaults, words buried
in walls, bones and muscle
memories cradled in his upturned palms
offering us
blurred shapes through the fog
of history rising
before our eyes under the flashing
light of his miner’s helmet
compelling us
He plants his feet
on the hardened earth of complicity
moving in measured rotation
holding past and future
in his merciful hands
warning us.
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