You know how we went to the art gallery yesterday,
You quite liked it,
I was wondering
Today we could go to the sculpture park…
…I know, you always say you don’t want to go,
You seemed to enjoy it yesterday –
‘I hated the it yesterday.’
Do I really know anything?
Do I have any sense (at all) of what is good or bad?
Is it all random?
I can remember,
In the dark times,
Visiting the gallery there,
Sitting with Dante’s Dream on the Day of the Death of Beatrice,
I felt something of the same,
Added-to the awareness
Of my children’s appreciation