The archaeology poem

I'm saying this is the archaeology poem, but in fact I've written several poems on archaeology over the years. I'm interested in the subject. I suppose it's related to my major and abiding interest in palaeoanthropology, the study of human origins and development. And of course there's a connection to geology, which I studied formally, and in which field I worked for 15 years.

This poem, written in 2004 and published in my collection 'Mementoliths' (available on Kindle) had two inspirations. The first was seeing a local dig at Knowes Farm on an East Lothian Archaeology Week Open Day. The second was seeing a painting by my friend Carmen Ambrozevich. Unknown to me, she had also visited the dig that day, and her lovely painting was inspired by it, as it later inspired me to remember what I'd seen. I love these kinds of connections.

Knowes Dig
(for Carmen Ambrozevich)


Traprain, in a neutral lozenge,
sits on a field of brown velvet
soil wrapped round the sides

of the painting. A Roman ring –
smoky blue glass – and other
archaeological trinkets

share space with a buried cow.
Yellow bone bisects the ditch.
Long spine, top of the skull,

horn cores and silent sockets,
testify to tough husbandry
or bellowing sacrifice.

Hearths of flat stones circle
within circles of fallen walls,
Venn diagrams for settlements,

the symbolic logic of life
on an Iron Age farm.
Surveyors level the site,

providing datum lines
to link the Votadini
to the expressway

between Dunedin
and Dunbar, an alignment
skirting the old hill’s

quarry-socketed gaze. Down here,
the intersection between Bass,
Pencraig, the Law and Traprain,

the perfect site for bone ash beaker,
stone-slab cist, time capsule
without starting date or finish.


Copyright © Colin Will 2005