In a dark cave, in the shadow of Rome
piled up beneath stalactites
are remains of ancient proto-humans.
You could hold their skulls up to the light
and see through the bite holes down through
to the brainpan, and run your fingers across
their over-sized brows which hang over the eyes
like little hills bordering a sloping field.
Its best to imagine them as something else entirely
to see them as the last fading piece of a tapestry
where little threads of green and gold and ochre
hang ragged, once connected but now cut off.
These were the ones God made but did not save
remainders from the grand experiment kicked off with
“Let there be light.”