Visiting

The crowd comes at dusk

From places that are known

To here that is nowhere,

Standing dumbly wondering

At an end or beginning,

Their lives all hold this moment,

The warm foyer, wide

Like in a good hotel;

Lit windows strung in darkness,

As on a liner’s flank,

All come here in time,

Their customary habits erased

Showing what was always there,

A fear shaped hole

Dodging thought won’t fill,

And beyond that, the white

Room just out of sight;

Getting closer every day

November 2014