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The Arrowhead

I have arrowheads

Crafted long ago in the forests

When it was still called The Dawn Country

Perhaps used for hunting

Perhaps used for battle

How carefully the maker chipped and grooved it

With skill and ancient knowledge

Perhaps the success of his arrow was

The line against starvation

But who crafted it?

I do not know his name

Not even sure of his nation

He might have been a chief.

But who knows?

Was he tall or short

Good or bad?

Did the arrow hit or miss?

But at least a thousand years later

Here is his arrowhead intact.

Found just where he left it.

Evidence of his passing through

Solid and in the palm of my hand

I wonder--

What will be my arrowhead

After I am gone?

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