the dig

unearthed,
the spoon, silver,
bent nearly in two
stops
the construction of a
nine story
hotel
at the edge of town.
the yellow tape goes around.
the newspapers come,
television,
men from china
holding
cameras squat at the spot
where the spoon
was unearthed
and snap photos
at every angle
as it sits dull in
the morning sun.
what else could be in
there, in that
mound of dirt
being dug.
a broken cup, perhaps,
a shard
of plate,
a toothpick?