so easy just to stay home

rapt in my own attention

yet to thrive outside

of a dream shouldn’t a person sometime

take a stroll? chance to change

sigh and step out of comfort’s reverie

if just to look at what lies out there

Maybe.

I aimed for the gallery

I heard the show would be one

worthy of effort

of wearing boots

combing hair (sort of)

cake wine and talking

walking into crowds

noting timbre of voices

sifting through shapes and heat

but the rain—

here it rains a lot and so what?

I have a red umbrella

but parking—

there’s patience and an app for that

enroute I met the young one

a help me sign and an upturned hat

five bucks in his hand to appear I am kind

oh yes art is good for a soul

even if rain blurs my view

it gifts opportunity to think

who designed that red brick archway

maybe in summer an installation

can feature there.

please do not talk to me when I am

gazing into artworks

taking in means me taking time

sometimes falling or slipping inside

artists speak deep through their works

but you must be quiet to hear

The gallery is alive

a population rich with wordless

beauty celebration exploration provocation

help cries questions remembrance exaltation

I signed the book illegibly

identity being less important than

the sincerity of my response

I nicked one more chocolate covered

strawberry before my exit

the man resting under his sleeping bag

in that doorway seemed

happy to see me🪶