Ten Characters, Hirshhorn Museum Spring 1990, Washington D.C. Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

for ilya and emilia kabakov



on a spring day I went to a museum

and found myself at home in the installation

so much so that I did not want to go home

but to live there.

but museums close

and we who are blown like petals to and fro

must situate ourselves in the galleries remembered.

I do remember that day.

I sat in the seat where the man who flew into his picture

floated away where he

once sat every day

waiting for the magisterial hours

and I was feeling there

also capable of anything

pinkly let the cherry tree bloom on the wall

and birdsong ring, echoing in this still place

within a greater stillness lapping the shore

and as if I were visiting relatives

in a careless childhood and could play wherever I wanted

cared for who can say how

but with the stars overhead and no ceilings;

the angels, in my sudden premonition, pantomime

singing of

the way to save N.V.

as if, in all the world,

it only depended on you.

mary angela douglas 10 june 2023



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