Other Worlds (Thursday Doors)

much is concealed
in the hidden folds of yesterday–
images taken and then forgotten
like a casual conversation–
only to suddenly reappear
as a whisper, a persistent hum
that was there all along–
lingering between consciousness
and the full moon shining
through distant nightclouds

These tiny otherworldly dioramas were part of an exhibit at the New York Botanical Garden that I visited last fall with my family. I ran across my photos of them recently and was newly enchanted.

The exhibit was inside Ross Hall, which is a large imposing structure. Strangely, I could find no information about it–who designed it, when–either on the garden’s website, or anywhere online. Perhaps there is information inside the building–I’ll look next time I’m there.

Here’s the door from the inside. I like the reflections on the floor.

My poem is a quadrille for dVerse, where De provided the word much. The moon was magic, as always, outside my window this week.

My daughters and I went to the 9/11 ceremony at the Firemen’s Memorial in Riverside Park this morning. Another crisp September morning. Hard to believe it’s been almost 25 years.

And look for more doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.