Ancestor by Gwen Gethner '11

Powdery stone dust
Chipped delicately away,
Paintbrush and dental tool
Slowly reveal
The line of my jawbone,
Smooth and fossilized,
The ridges of my teeth,
Tiny legacy
Of my disintegrating body.

Later, buried
In the orange-brown motley
Of anonymous stone,
My straight miracle
Of a knee-joint
Is uncovered,
Two worn ends
Of bone hinging the door
To future centuries
Of bipedalism.

Fragments of my body’s frame
Cradled in a scientist’s hand
That reminds me
Of my own.
Slender, dexterous,
With the elegant offshoot
Of an opposable thumb.