When the roof of the First Emperor of Qin’s tomb

caved in, six thousand life-size terra-cotta soldiers knelt

beneath its crumbling weight in the first pit,

alongside horses & chariots. Centuries before,

when the clay figures stood in perfect formation,

the rebel general Xiang Yu looted this sanctuary

of the dead, sequestering the bronze weapons

honed by these bodyguards of the afterworld

to kill the heirs of the charging drums & bells.

All their bright regimental colors are eaten away.

Their etched mouths are shaped for secret oaths.

Their eyes can see into the old lost seasons,

& their noses are dilated as if smelling lilies

in a valley. Rank is carved into each topknot,

tassel, & strand. The blind can read insignia

grooved into the uniforms. In the second pit,

in its L-shaped chamber, cavalrymen & horses

with pricked ears peer out of the red earth,

unbridled by time. Some warriors are sculpted

in unbroken taijiquan stances. In the third pit,

royal commanders huddle with scrimmages

in broken heads. The statues rise again in flanks

after they are pieced together & bandaged

with strips of wet clay. The last pit is empty,

no more than a cave, furnished with shadows

& imperial dreams from the Forbidden City.