A freshness as after rain
in this deeper seclusion
where our putative span figures –
from gardened beds to slim trees –
in an architectural scheme,
epitome of calm between storms.
Navigating corridors and cloisters,
we thicken patina and paintwork
with thoughts we’ve brought to bear
from guidebook précis,
biography of this or that artist,
history of dates and erasure.
By a bench on these stone flags,
some internal murmur frets,
pushes out into a penumbra
where others meanings
might wait to be distilled
