Too Bad I've Never Been to Kampsville

What if I had lived in Horizon Nine
And you in Horizon Eight buried
Through charcoaled fragments of time,
Preserved through drought and flood
For future men-of-the-spade?

Would you have known that I existed
Compressed beneath your prayers and fires,
A captive audience while they burned?
Would you have cared that I existed,
Precursor of your fate?

Or perhaps when you arrived
You thought this site unoccupied.
So, unearthed, I am as new to you
As I am to these shovels and picks
And laboratory specialists.

No matter—we both lie exposed.
A few telltale bones and seeds
Proclaim our existence.
Betrayed by Carbon-14, we remain forever
Prisoners of our own horizons.