out
side
a
new
sense:
Streets of shops
a child's music box twirling plastic ballerina's
and old tin pictures of dreams in half-tones
I acquire a mysterious connection
passing from one item to another—
my mind wanders back to an old record player
thick rubber disks
crackling background sounds
looking for the restroom—
scents of old wood and warm dust
crowd narrow aisles
mildewed books, bent tins and pipes
askew upon a man's dresser
down the last aisle
outside again
sunshine and fresh air
follow me into the next shop,
trapped in a corner
display cased jewels
an old torn box of single beads
haphazardly thrown together
amber and black glass
Venetian mosaic and Turkish telspah
,
old worry beads—
three times a day
penance prayers now cold
to the touch
on an antique dresser
in a tiny wooden box edged in brass
a young girl's locket
my fingers reach
for the small heart
just beyond
secrets
overhead chandelier stars twinkle
reflected in uneven waves
of antique mirrors, holding deep
ancient skies and distant planets
the sparkle of tiffany lamps
splashes of sunset in dust
