POETRY

Peregrinations

A poem about a journey

Not exactly The Phantom of the Opera. Photo by Fabien TWB on Unsplash

I was asked to drop by a local museum
Sadly I was caught in a violent downpour

Wandering through empty streets
Cursing the spire
Of a long-necked cathedral
I see a lion-legged bench
And a man with a pointed beard

I walk into the museum
I was transported into a room
a room filled with Oriental fabrics
There was a taxidermied panther across azure carpets
Above its head, hangs a bow and quiver
I look down and noticed I was standing on a tiger skin

In another hall
An entire skeleton of a whale
The size of a frigate
The place smelled of misty draperies

I look up
The chandeliers came aglitter
Bugle beads, bugle beads, bugle beads
Stone stairs
I was alone
Not a living soul, not a living soul

I was a living among the dead
but I couldn’t be more relieved