At a Public Bath in Budapest
If I had shown some classic grace
like statues all around,
and hadn’t darted through the place,
a maze that did confound;
if I had kept the calm of blues
of all the patterned tiles
that lined each winding hall I’d choose,
frantic, lost for miles;
if I had mimicked ages past
when kings and queens would visit
and stroll beneath high skylights’ glass
to waters that elicit
health and equanimity —
then I’d have skipped that slip.
Bare feet in wet proximity
skewed left. I smacked my hip,
hard. Bruised, I sank into
the nearest pool, divinely
warm, and stayed until I grew
prune-wrinkled. Finally
I dressed and left, sore of hip,
but still I glowed with pride:
in Hungary I’d had a dip
with history on my side.
Prize-winning poet Barbara Lydecker Crane’s fourth collection, You Will Remember Me, sonnets about portrait paintings in the imagined voices of artists through the centuries, was published by Able Muse Press in 2023.