fragments of uncertain location

Fragments
of uncertain
location: We
mortals make
cities, he
could not decipher
the apocryphal
text (secret,
mysterious)

(if Prometheus molded)

Larks dart
through midday
over sea,
no smoke rises
from a poet’s
sacrifice
(and you’re not 
of some
other clay)
I sing only
what
is well
attested.