For decades, Paul Skuta carried in his mind an image of an archaeologist in a remote yet somehow familiar place working to unearth a site all but completely obscured by the accumulation of years. As the sediments were cleared away, pieces of something were revealed. Although scattered and of varying shapes and sizes, these pieces seemed to be parts of one thing. What were these artifacts? Who made them? What did they say about their maker and what would others make of them? Ranging from traditional to experimental in form, this collection of poetry uses the framework of artifacts to explore what it means to be human. About the Author Paul Skuta is a botanist, retired, as much as any botanist ever really retires. Since 1994, he has lived in a house called Virgilia, first with his friend since the third grade and wife of 22 years, then, since her passing in 1999, by himself. His poetry has been published in Pivot, a journal of the Poetry Workshop of The Pennsylvania State University, and in Michigan Quarterly Review. In two separate capacities he has written columns for his local newspaper, The New Castle News, and his essay, "Persimmons Are Ripe" was published by GreenPrints. From a young age, Skuta has been impacted by two motivating forces: nature and words. Drawing upon both, sometimes separately, sometimes in combination, he has been a witness to and beneficiary of their capacity to transform and restore. In particular, he has found in both worlds the very great power that is held in very small things: an atom, an apostrophe, a seed, a space, a slim volume of spare verse.