The Temple knew
gold leafed corners, high,
hidden by pillars
from priestly view,
lavish design,
art for God’s eye
only…

So, now I ride south
From Hudson’s Valley
by train to Manhattan
into her hollow core,
glancing a moment at,
lit by yellowed bulbs,
red exit signs, but
a blink would miss
and open eyes
doubt the vision,
arches dimming into distance,
ceramic tile relief,
lavish design
laid by artisans long gone
for stations long unused

art in darkness
for Gods eye only
and, on this trip, anyway,
mine.