Xiomara's Vigil

Xiomara´s Vigil

Where will her roving husband dig tonight?
The moonlit dunes that stretch beyond their door
cradle a bounty wrested to the light.

An ancient cemetery is the site
(stray bony bits first led them to explore.)
What will her roving husband find tonight—

clay figurines, quaint pots of black-on-white?
A mummy-bundle? Implements of war?
An eldritch bounty wrested to the light.

The marriage bedroom brings him less delight
than ravishing the past (the point is sore.)
Where will her roving husband dig tonight?

She drops the curtain, fearing her beauty might
never compete with those who walked before:
skeletal bounty wrested to the light.

Dawn´s planet risen lately, gemstone-bright,
he plops a sack beside the kitchen door.
What did her roving husband find last night?
Whose history was wrested to the light?