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  • By Adam Sedia

A Nameless Fossil

What creature’s frame, entombed in stone,

Lies, though marine, in open air?

As if it glimpsed the Gorgon’s stare,

Hard rock outlines its shell and bone.

What vanished world saw it respire

And squirm through Paleozoic sludge

And feed and spawn and flee the clutch

Of hunters and die in the mire?

Forgotten, hidden, nameless it

Remained through ages’ distant span

Until taxonomizing Man

Could craft some Latin sobriquet.

How many eons after I

Am long forgotten and my race

Departed will that stony face

Still stare, up to an altered sky?

Adam Sedia (b. 1984) lives in his native Indiana, where he practices as a civil and appellate litigation attorney. His poems have appeared in print and online publications, and he has published two volumes of poetry: The Spring's Autumn (2013) and Inquietude (2016). He also composes music, which may be heard on his YouTube channel. He lives with his wife, Ivana, and their two children.

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