Walking on History

Walking down what’s left of an old cobbled street
Unmindful of the history underfoot
Uncaring that my path might be following
Where my ancestors perhaps once toiled.
My slow step tries to avoid
The contents of over turned litter bins
And I wonder what future historians
Might make of any findings here.
If perhaps there is anything preserved
If perhaps what is left isn’t torn up
To provide another town planning solution
By destroying the past.

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