I was invited to an Art show that was painted
long before I was born—
Seven decades ago.
Its beauty was impressive.
Yet— I kept walking along
Smiling at each ornate frame, checking my watch,
flirting with my chaperone— waiting to go home.
History with all its beauty and faults
cannot survive without sharing its thoughts
—as they did on my evening’s drive home.
Drowsy with perception’s wine,
its indigestible sandwiches
sprinkled with beauty and awe
unable to personally imagine or to be explained.