POSTCARDS FROM THE QUATERNARY

I

In the deep dust of the earth

a small Magdalenian whistle.

No longer a flint chipped

in a laborious struggle for life.

But tiny notches on three faces

of an eagle bone

marked out a year of moons.

Described by scholars as

“decorative” or “insignificant”:

it was the first book.

Not so much faber as

sky watcher, casually

he blew into the whistle.

II

The first woman’s face

is five centimeters high.

Delicate hair

rises from a slightly

rounded forehead.

Age has not blurred

her oblique and pensive gaze.

Carved in mammoth ivory

she was abandoned

at Dolní Věstonice.

III

In the cave at Sterkfontein (Transvaal),

on the appearance of the first men

recognized as men by science,

they settled in the same chamber

where their ancestors

had been devoured in turn

by hyenas and big cats,

its earlier inhabitants.