Thoughts in a museum

By Andrew R. Duckworth

New discoveries of old worlds
Guarded by a transparent shield,
The left behind brought to a new place.

Ancient jewels once adorning the neck of royalty,
Armor dropped on the fields centuries ago.
I imagine the swords once in the hands of warriors
Slashing their way to a kingdom’s victory,
Most of their names wiped away forever.

Fresh casts carefully placed together
That tower in a palace of new and old.
Teeth from before humanity thrived.

I imagine a meadow giving way to a forest,
A forest giving way to a clearing,
A break in an emerald canopy,
And animals long since passed at their nesting grounds.
I imagine strange smells, strange air,
And sounds that will never be heard again.

And, in a thousand years, some will make this their final destination.
A different time, different society, different location,
And our dust will be their walking path.