Stairs at the Museum

These stairs lead to those stairs
that lead to platforms
that lead to rooms full of art
and then to new stairs.
No maps, Just a wisp of sunlight
to give you direction
or at least the sense of it,
up or down. East or not.
More steps without scenery,
and you, counting on arriving
sooner or later, not at the destination,
but a destination
worth lingering at for a time.

About this poem

About the stairs at Mass MoCA (Mass Museum of Contemporary Art). About life. Or at least mine.

Tom