Carefully placing their hoofs on the rubble, horses crossed; dogs, coyotes, beetles,
lizards all species but fish walked, crawled, or slithered across what looked like the
alluvium an ancient river had left behind.

Can I resurrrect it and create it again from the dirt of this place?
My fear is that I am severed irreparably from my ancestral roots,
from what a friend of mine calls my bone country.

When the river returned, I stood on its shore craning to see floating downstream
the bones of dinosaurs, giant sloths, wooly mammoths and sabre-toothed tigers.
Then the River God poured forth a riddle: In what form will your species survive?