Self Portrait with Silver Pitcher by Ed Robson

Self Portrait with Silver Pitcher by Ed Robson

By their tools and pottery we know

far more about the ancient ones

than bones will ever tell.

Although some well-preserved Egyptian queen,

unwrapped, reveals her diet and diseases,

and the official version of her deeds

in hieroglyphic archive fills the walls,

the clues to what she really cared about

are in the treasures with her in the crypt.

Forgotten cities tell their tales in trash,

the broken bits of stuff their human elements

once made, used till they broke, and then discarded.


What will they find, those future archaeologists,

that speaks of who I was and how I lived?

My home is full of me,

some parts by my own skill created,

others brought from far away

because in each of them I recognized

some facet of my soul no eyes had seen.


This vessel—this my Sunday best, from which

my hands pour out their hospitality,

first polishing to let its sturdy grace

and flowing geometric functionality

in gleaming metal tacitly declare

the care beneath my humble offering—

this one may have the strength to last, and though

it tarnish, carry on its burnished face

the seal of this one woman’s hands and heart.

Do you see me, here within the silver?

Will you see me here when I am gone?



Ed Robson  7/12/2015


The Art and Writing of Barbara Rizza Mellin