Museum of locks

A poem from Shanghai, by Rob Schackne


Every time I go across the river

My taxi passes a tiny place called

The Museum of Locks, between

Two hapless shops in Fuxing Lu

And if we hit the traffic just right

I manage to look inside where

The tight walls are covered with

Hundreds of locked examples

Whose ancient doors and closets

Are unlocked like old memories

Now free to roam, now free to all

Or maybe not, waiting patiently

Locked up again, re-opened

Rob Schackne is an Australian poet who has been teaching in Shanghai for ten years