This poem is taken from PN Review 34, Volume 10 Number 2, November - December 1983.
LegaciesIt was nothing like a legacy.
We didn't know the word.
We dug a hole and buried things in bottles,
a home-made picture dictionary
and seven orange stamps,
an outline map of land and water,
descriptions of our house and school
and things we did there,
news of those days in which we lived.
...
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