British Museum

I am… waiting,
And watching all types –
Aimless tourists, an irregular patchwork.
They are pensive;
Exiting the great doors,
And on toward the austere gates.

And watching all types –
Aimless tourists, an irregular patchwork.
They are pensive;
Exiting the great doors,
And on toward the austere gates.

They must… yield,
To the infinite depth of history’s detail –
The British Museum transfixes all.
With a lilting;
Yet meandering gait,
Their feet begin to ask them questions.

Like a… lost soldier,
Stunned by culture shock –
Each wanders out across the expanse.
They draw near;
And I want to ask
What they have seen to numb them so.

A certain… veteran,
With purpose approaches –
Inflected eyebrows, draw a smile.
She tells me my job;
To drive her… places
And then enthuses over Ancient Egypt and mummy cases.

Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *