Jan/Feb 2022  •   Poetry  •   Special Feature

Museum Gallery 32

by Miriam Kotzin

Museum Gallery 32

Behind the picture plane
placed beyond our reach,

the artist set a bowl
of fruit: crimson grapes,

plums a shade so dark
they're almost black,

and, on a white plate,
halved and glistening,

one obscene scarlet-
centered peach. It's here

a couple stops to kiss.
Entwined, they never mind

who watches them embrace.
The gallery guard turns

aside, inclined to selective
blindness when decorum's

only briefly breeched.
He's back to staring into

middle distance, lost in his own
remembered passion's grind.