Poem: Just beneath the topsoil

Collonaded ruins wait
Hidden beneath the topsoil
For the next generation

Of archaeologists and historians
To begin excavation anew.
Cream colored Ionic columns

Shattered friezes, and statues
Lie quietly in repose
As someone back at the University

Matches Part 1324A to 1324B
And come up with a cornerstone
To act as a plinth

For the first earthquake fractured column
And the reconstruction begins.
If time and grants allow,

They may later get to the fragementary
Fingertips, hands, noses, ears, and penises,
And reconstruct the statues for us.
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