Just Beyond the Gift Shop
At what angle juxtaposed
were your shoulders to mine?
Did our steps echo through the museum?
Do they still?
Could our chiaroscuro have been seen
by the artists at rest
whose palettes of the soul
remind us to render
what remains important?
Here a brush stroke makes visible the moon-
white mountain peak looming above
light that shines on longing.
I say, “There! The perspective is certain.”
You say, “Here, the certain is a matter of
We stroll apart
just for a little space,
then come back to touch something new:
an arm, a hand, a hip, an idea––
of how we could best appreciate
a conjugation of the miraculous.