-but to begin-

the glossy
pages of the volumes
are opened to their bookmarks
and the pages look up from the table.

the table is wide and long
and built of the darker, denser

woods.

It sits in the middle of the spacious

gallery of the Art School

where the atmosphere
is engaged and anticipating.

like any study-hall populated by students,

in time some will learn, some will

learn something, some will question
their attendance.

but to begin, this happened at the table:

standing, he neatly rolls
the cuffs of his sleeves to the forearm.
he’s not yet speaking.

but he clears his throat.
the volumes on the table
are ordered by relevance.

the leather band of his watch

is carefully detached from its clasp

and falls open at the wrist

with the gracefulness of quiet
residence. 

the watchband is flattened
and the face of the timepiece

looks up from the table.

but this is to begin.
he's not yet speaking.
but he clears his throat.

but he readies the volumes

and fingers the adam’s apple

of his neck as if anticipating
the words of his arrival.
he’s not yet speaking.
but to begin,
a forward thrust of the chin
and the faces look up from the table.