snow and sand

can winter
influence the way we see history
will we remember the way we left
the wipers pointing up
away from the frozen glass
can a snowbrush gently remove the depths
of temporary white obstruction
without disturbing what can be seen

how unlike archeology is this
digging to free the custom wheels from ice and snow
using an old coal shovel, a kitchen broom
to escape to gain the freedom of the road
with a polymer finish that polyethylene would scratch
gentleness would seem anathema to the task at hand
and yet if the digging could yield antiquity
archeological or paleontological
would we use a toothbrush, a Purdy paint brush
a mason’s pointed trowel gently to gain history

what is covered, obscured is somehow familiar
like shadows and echoes
urge us on to clear away the dust of years
of weather, of history
to find our own way, to discover what has been discovered
not snow, not sand, but tyranny has compromised our willingness
to take a breath, to hope for more
no wipers have been encrusted to the windshield
we have no tires buried in these sands of time
our vision of the path ahead is clear
no hieroglyphics written on a placard here

still we have brushed away the weight of suffocation
the burden of poverty, the detour of the path of least resistance
we have scratched the surface of this day
to reveal, not the chains and history of antiquity
but the dormant, subconscious dream of civilization
the unlikely discovery of treasure more brilliant than Tutankhamen
cleared from the debris, the impossibility, the sacrifice of Tahrir Square

the uncertain, but hopeful promise of freedom


Barry DeCarli
February 11, 2011
©2011 Barry DeCarli