At The High Museum Poem by Richard Stilwell
At The High Museum
Come here,
No here,
Over here,
Look at me,
Me too,
Who first?
Who last?
Which way do I go?
They take my breath,
I get dizzy,
And turn to go,
But I cannot,
So I turn back.
Where I came face to face with her,
The perfect picture of composure,
She is too beautiful,
I lose composure,
And walk past__ only to,
Have it happen again.
And again__
2001
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11/3/2025 11:02:13 PM # 1.0.0
i can relate to this poem..sometime shwen we are busy with mundane things something beautiful almost takes our breath away