Poem introduction

I think I've said already that I feel myself that I'm an archaeologist manque - certainly I'm terribly keen on picking things up off the ground, particularly interested in pottery, and the next poem is about picking up a piece of pottery, but it's also I think about the past and ones fascination with the past and the strange continuities of things. It's called 'Sigma', as in the Greek letter of the alphabet. By the way, I pronounce the word S H E R D S "sherds"; some people say "shards", but you can distinguish your real archaeologist from your amateur person because a real archaeologist talks about sherds, not shards.

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