Artifacts Poem by Frank Avon

We are defined by artifacts,
the things we keep about us.

We will not be confined
to dictionary definitions:

He's a quarterback.
She's very pretty.
They're workaholics, all of them.
She's Asian.
He's as rich as Croesus.
Their dancing is divine.

We are defined by the things
we keep around us, won't let go:

Antiques, with the patina of life.
Paintings that color conception.
Postage stamps, traveling sedentary.
Rare books, pages to the touch.
Deciduous trees, harmonizing space.
Paperweights, animated gestures.

We are defined by artifacts,
hard facts, unrefined, tangible:

Automobiles, luxury or economical.
Clothes we wear, to shelve our selves.
Implements. to use and for display.
DVDs, stored away, rarely watched.
Coffee table books (no one looks) .
Rings on our fingers, silken things.

With artifacts we define ourselves,
are protagonists of our own fictions.

Everything we own is a metaphor
for what we have or haven't done.
Whatever we treasure is a melody
(jazz, pop, folk, rock, operatic) .
What we choose to keep, clarifies
who we are, who we choose to be.

We are defined by things prosaic,
things prophetic, things archaic.

If you would trace
our etymology,
it's not a documentary,
it's not a family tree;
it's what we keep,
until at last
what we've kept, is,
like us, set free.