Oh, to uncover you
Your claw submerged under sediment, tar, your own words
And I would have you, preserved in amber
And copies made to be overpriced at science centers.
But you are not some majestic, rampant saber-tooth tiger
You outran the towering of dirt, heat, and time.
Your large talons scratched out of the debris unscathed.
And I was left with only a rusting trowel,
A go-get-‘em attitude, and a fading, worn-in cap.
As eons passed , I have found nothing,
Only twisted, dried out weeds, and
Not even a fang to string around my neck
Or a foot to keep for good luck, for more discoveries to come,
Of more missed glances to report by kerosene lamps on crumbling parchment
I could’ve uncovered you
Been the face in front of flashing, intoxicating lights
Beneath large exclamations of bolded text to be read by proud relatives.
If only you had been so gracious,
To allow the welcoming hands of time, pressure, and clay
To imprint themselves upon you, in the places where I could not.
My tool kit, all the while, glinting in the sun, in my eyes
Chiseling away chunks, in waiting to find that something
An arm, a tooth,
A something, an anything.
Even if it was the quarter out of your pocket.