Once

by Taidgh Lynch

The sky darkened,
and the stars gathered
as we sifted through dirt and fragments,
carefully uncovering a man
quiet and skeletal,
fragile and peat,
fingers sharp as little arrows,
thin curled toes like shaved obsidian,

and a skull shaped like the moon.

We knelt, picking our minds
for information
wondering who this man was
and where he hunted food.
Travelling with no roads
or maps as guides
only the stars.