it is a bust, a bust from ancient times,
chipped but still intact, unknown though perhaps
a respected member of officialdom
or a dancer, her graceful hands and legs
...
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I know exactly this feeling, though this experience has never happened to me. It is
shocking how much we recognize ourselves in ancient things we see. How far back
would one have to go to lose that recognition? Or would it ever go missing at all?
Great poem hidden here. I feel like a great archaeologist, discovering it. (smile)
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I know exactly this feeling, though this experience has never happened to me. It is shocking how much we recognize ourselves in ancient things we see. How far back would one have to go to lose that recognition? Or would it ever go missing at all? Great poem hidden here. I feel like a great archaeologist, discovering it. (smile)