Museums in the age of Quarantine
Two guards
in an empty room
in a museum
that is closed.
Protection
is certain,
never minding
the art is lost
as certainly as a bad novel
of theft.
stolen by viruses and fear,
waiting for a shift in the air
to bring it back to life,
to allow it to be seen,
bringing both artist and patron
back to life.
About this poem
I was feeling completely uninspired this morning, so I sat a while and went through pictures. I don’t think I realized how many museum images I have. It made me realize that next to church and my favorite diner, I miss museums most of all.
Tom
