ROSETTA 2051

		We found the tapestry
		rolled in an amethyst-coloured jar
		and buried in a patch
		of crimson sand

		there were some alien bones around
		as though someone       something
		had bled and died
		to place it there

		we took it to our outpost
		and spread it on a table near
		the computer's watchful eye
		exposed it to the dome's harsh light
		the whiteness of the Martian sun

		our leader plucked a thread
		and fed some details
		to the memory band
		analysis       he said       we waited
		marvelling at the patterns
		textures     colours
		shifting and re-forming
		on the cloth

		this tapestry was well-preserved
		distinct somehow
		from others that we'd found
		the knots       the hues
		the lines like ragged words
		all secrets

		when       as we watched
		one shape       one image
		then another
		ran together
		on the screen
		symbols       meanings
		meshed and soared
		translating into cosmic fugue

		unravelling worlds
		and severed visions
		from some vanished weaver's hand.

			- Mary E. Choo

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