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
,
Thu 28 March 2013 in
