Recovering the Lost

Some things might best survive by being lost or stolen, hidden, sunk beneath the waves— for years preserved, tucked deep inside a chest

perhaps. Our art sometimes escaped the past by being shipwrecked early—to one day be found, having survived for being lost.

Karyátides—stone women used as posts— for years held up the Acropolis like slaves. The stolen one preserved—her face and chest's

carvings still clear. Her sisters' features almost disappeared, worn away by industrial rain. Minoan island city-states survived, though lost,

covered by ash which turned the towns to ghosts, but left each house intact—forgotten ways for years preserved inside the Earth's deep chest.

Years later by that sea, a child will cast and sink her dreams like stones—she's told they weigh too much to keep. Will they survive those lost long years, preserved, tucked deep inside her chest?