I am incredibility inner today,
like a folded rose, metaphorically speaking
I am totally dwelling within . . .
the world moving outside of me
lost within my own reverie
I have come to the art gallery
where I can lose myself
on the patio I am reading and writing
the warm sun is caressing me
the breeze stroking me
silence embraces my body
I am safe within my loneliness
the world is far away
Until . . .
some people arrive, noisily
clinking of forks and stench of food
slurping noises . . .
the stillness, peacefulness a thing of the past
my refuge has been destroyed
I want to run in my disgust
Now, lost within the world of Old Masters
I roam the corridors of the gallery, alone
and I dwell within the folded rose . . .
September 8, 2012