They carved stautes on Easter Island
and built skyscrapers on Manhattan.
They sat around the campfire and talked,
and smoked and invented the Gods, Internet,
and Cholorofluorocarbons.
They built machines that fly in the air
and float underwater.
They danced mysteriously, seductively,
alone in the light of the cave, the flickering flames
keeping time till the end of the dance.
They pondered the stars,
gave the ocean a name,
created laws and police,
and cruelty.
They scattered themselves, and their bones,
across the continents. They trampled their footprints
up every mountain, across every desert,
and to the poles. They even played golf
on the moon.
Today I found something buried in the dirt while I was walking.
It appears to be left by the people that came before us.
Some kind of toy.
I took it to the local museum and now they have it under glass.
