Galleria di Hesburgh Sarah Kikel

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Galleria di Hesburgh

Sarah Kikel

at night, the lights in Hesburgh lose their phosphorescence, tainting the second floor in dusty haze as we descend into antiquity.

all around me are marble pillars surrounded by chairs of stone, rigid monuments to the pursuit of truth—or knowledge— remains to be told.

within the paper walls, my companions, statues, posed in traditional form. pursed lips, carved in silence, awaiting the final chisel to be set free.

still, in evening, emerging from stone in various stages of completion on the holy ground as Olympus slumbers.

gone the Peripatetics gone the two-horse chariot gone the Lucretian swerve

instead

here Solon here Euclid here Apollonius

with regal curls resting on cloth of painted gold, muscles taut, profiles posed, chipped around the eyes— weathered by the old nights.

though alive in visiting hours when the tourists come to gain a glimpse of the myth, tonight, the hall of prisoners, after visitors all returned to hotel quilts.

somewhere outside, Poseidon’s storm rages, but here, Moses guards the door to academia, protecting monuments to the regal graves that will be opened soon, as they stoically approach the Trojan field for the night. 23