A Field Trip

They wandered about the exhibit
of the emperor long dead,
though, no august history would inhibit
boyish thoughts swirling in their heads.

So, the whispers and the nudges,
the furtive grins creasing their faces;
what seriousness could be encouraged
as they passed the Three Graces?

So, from there to something closer to home,
hopefully to make a fresh start,
in a less fleshy hall to roam
I led them to the hall Early American art.

No luck.
There was the sculpted figure, semi-nude.
So, to the figure I went and stood
hoping to show her form was not lewd,
but rather something noble and good.

“See how her skirt’s tassel’s sway
as she is about to run?
Who knows what it once weighed,
I’d guess close to a ton.

How does one make of stone a music of grace?”
and then from some gratuity beyond intent
a nascent wonder brushing his face,
he added, “And for her to look so innocent!”

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