Waiting for Brueghel

You yearned to see him,
longed after him as you
did in your Florentine days;
Brueghel,
as advertised
Brueghel as promised;

Amid the pristine marble
of the Royal Fine Arts
(Brussels museum of renown)
Brueghel drew them,
drew you like a moth
to immortal f(l)ame,
you exchanged more than
rubies for a promised look;

Doors wide open
staircases agape,
you hurried on up
when the laconic voice intoned,
“ the 15th,16th,&19th.centuries
will be closed for lunch ”
a momentary disappointment,
your visual caresses postponed;

At one o’clock
your heart beat faster
and faster still at a minute past,
when the doorman capitulated
down the corridors you dashed to
see blank wall after blank wall,
a veritable Tabula Rasa
they forgot to mention
that during lunch
Brueghel had also left the Casa.

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