Archeological Endeavors Crush-splattered by a Sunday driver on the road between heaven and hell, my father's shovel carried her soft fur from pavement to grave. Brown spots on white, she had mewed after my childhood legs daily, green eyes searching for food. When my father lay dying, nine cat lives later, the teen in our old home spoke of childhood archeological endeavors-- cat bones in the back yard. I told her the story. Five days later, my father was laid to ground. When future archeologists unearth his remains, the cycle will be complete, at last. Pris Campbell ©2002 Photograph: Family Archives Music: Zodak the Priest by Handel |
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