Poem: Museum Pieces


Museum Pieces

Carefully crafted
jars of alabaster,
each of them a work of art,
a thing only a prince could purchase,
lined up,
once holding precious parts –
hearts, spleens, gall,
once so precious, life-giving
and worthy of preservation,
never imagining they would become museum pieces,
dry and brittle,
the life drawn out of them,
on display to the very commoners
they would have despised
in life.

About this poem. 

We carry things with us – anger, sadness, fears, preserving them like something precious. Yet all that lives on is love.

The picture was taken at the Albany Institute of Art and History.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s