Burial at Shanidar

By ELIZABETH HAZEN

Pollen found in one of the Shanidar graves suggests that Neanderthals, too, buried flowers with their dead.

The pollen could be mere coincidence—
traces left by a prehistoric rat
that ate flowers near the grave—but we prefer

believing cavemen buried blossoms there.
See the bereaved weeping? Over foothills
she lumbers. Mammoths trumpet in the distance.

All flowers were wild then. Grape hyacinth,
cornflower, hollyhock: she gathers armfuls,
asking Why? She lays the bouquet on his chest,

closes him into the cave floor. Perhaps
she says a prayer. See? Even from this distance
we dream of gardens where there should be stone.

 

Elizabeth Hazen is a poet and essayist whose work has appeared in Best American Poetry 2013, Southwest Review, The Threepenny Review, The Normal School, and other journals. She lives in Baltimore.

[Click here to purchase your copy of Issue 08]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Burial at Shanidar

Related Posts

Hitting a Wall and Making a Door: A Conversation between Phillis Levin and Diane Mehta

DIANE MEHTA and PHILLIS LEVIN
This conversation took place over the course of weeks—over daily phone calls and long emails, meals when they were in the same place, and a weekend in the Connecticut countryside. The poets share what they draw from each other’s work, and the work of others, exploring the pleasures of language, geometric movement, and formal constraint.

Anna Malihot and Olena Jenning's headshots

August 2025 Poetry Feature: Anna Malihon, translated by Olena Jennings

ANNA MALIHON
The girl with a bullet in her stomach / runs across the highway to the forest / runs without saying goodbye / through the news, the noble mold of lofty speeches / through history, geography, / curfew, a day, a century / She is so young that the wind carries / her over the long boulevard between bridges

Image of a tomato seedling

Talks with the Besieged: Documentary Poetry from Occupied Ukraine  

ALEX AVERBUCH
Russians are already in Starobilsk / what nonsense / Dmytrovka and Zhukivka – who is there? / half a hundred bears went past in the / direction of Oleksiivka / write more clearly / what’s the situation in Novoaidar? / the bridge by café Natalie got blown up / according to unconfirmed reports