I shuffled my feet along
a small patch of sand
that glittered with pebbles
in between weeds and grass.
A small sharp edge caught my eye
a spearhead – long and tapered
shimmery and flinty.
Here, in this remote corner of the woods,
someone lived so long ago
that an entire people are forgotten.
On this hill, by the worn deer path,
some young man aimed
and lost his spear.
Perhaps his footprints are underneath
the grass still,
or his spirit lives
in the quiet rustle of the leaves,