Stone whispers

I visited the art museum on Sunday
and wandered through the detritus
of Cairo and Athens
to the classical hall,
where stone carvings - marble statues
stand motionless in the crowd.

The sun streaked through windows
that hung safely out of reach.
Warm light and red brick walls
countered the cool expressions
of those stone smiles.

As I stood there,
they whispered secrets of the ages,
telling tales of battles fought and won,
of forgotten sculptors.

They listened casually
as I told them of my quiet desires;
they never compromised my secrets.
I have misplaced their names…
but their faces live in my memory
like friends who have long since moved away.