Yellow Mountain Clay
I want a metal detector,
I need to dig things up.
There's so much in the dirt,
and I can't get enough.
All that was left behind,
has since been immersed.
Forgotten graves deepen,
in time's cyclic curse.
Anywhere I step,
others stepped before.
For lifetimes upon lifetimes,
in times of peace and times of war.
I regularly find remnants,
memories from days lost.
Folks before me must of known,
i'd get to them at any cost
From old poems to ancient hills,
down to the thick West Virginian clay.
Fragments of my forefathers exist,
to learn from them all I pray.
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Comments about this poem (Yellow Mountain Clay by Leila Hadi )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
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