Figures on the other side of the doorway
moving away
their thoughts in residence
their forms flung to distant meridians
they don’t live here
do they?
visiting on occasion
like the jewels which adorn me
not the neck clutched
like the evening estuary
dry as dust when tides wane
but now filled with porifera and fiddlers
and disappearing footprints
figures on the other side of time
in motion toward the vanishing point
of a masterwork
renaissance
baroque conversation
blue prints
bridges in the art history of our love
outside the door we stand
bidding farewell
but not outside the architecture of vaulted souls
all of time you see comes down to this moment
and will go only
where we permit.