Musea

by Tim Cunningham

Posted to Poetry on 2002-05-04 08:21:00

They enter,
following guidelines
written on the floor

White walls,
of a purity
never witnessed
surely expressing the
deepest depression
of brilliance

More white,
no shadow,
it exhaust the
observing eye
Beauty, a void
mentally closed

There it is,
enormous, diminishing
audience to an insect
spots on the wall,
shades in the air,
and the intensity
of non-darkness
overwhelms beyond
resistance

When leaving,
their heart
solved riddles

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