Sings the preservation of her death
the recovery of her
from the Eocene’s Messel Pit
has become science’s opera
the palaeontologist bending over her
is a devoted tenor
smitten and tender as he forages in her
for clues to the hominid tree
naming her for his own small daughter, Ida
(Eeda in his melodic Norwegian lilt)
who matches the small monkey’s one year
of life
the primate’s fragile exposure
also the child’s
each breath a fossil in the making
Breathe in experience, Breathe out poetry*
everything learnt is brilliant or stupid
the mind insinuates itself
everywhere like a muscle
prehensile as Eeda
and wildly a-metronomic
as it swings above chasms
whose game is perish