Evening air of salt sea marshes drifts
Thick and heavy amongst ocean pines
Flanking Assateague wildlife preserve.
As with thousand ages past, moon and
Stars cast pale-shadowed light on fragile
Isthmus of Atlantic Ocean shore.
Fermenting marsh reveals few secrets,
Except as lines of bubbled music,
Recounting cultures lost, forgotten by
Time and hurried beach goers of the
Current era. Deep within salt marshes,
Beyond reach of an archaeologist’s
Pointed trowel, lay lost habitation of
Eastern Clovis Culture.
Skilled at handcrafting majestic
Projectile points, bifaced, fluted
Stone, Paleoindian ancestors hunted
Woolly mammoth, awakening post-
Glacial New World. Transcending
Thousand centuries, Clovis projectile
Points are graceful, yet sharp-strong,
Lethal symmetry crafted by percussing
Minute flakes of opalescent stone.
Beyond these exquisite artifacts,
Meager non-lithic evidence survived
To reconstruct this prehistoric culture,
their origins, and arduous, nomadic past.
Upheaval of earth and climate ended
Clovis occupation. Contained in ancient
Strata and depths of salt marshes, their
Life-saga is whispered reed-songs,
Words and courageous deeds forever
Lost in quiet resignation.