poem #6

What tempted me to join the queue?
It must be some great treat.  
Only delight could keep these souls
Shuffling on blistered feet.  

I turned a corner hours ago,
Quite perpendicular,
But as I count the corners off
I’ve tallied five so far.  

The walls are clean, but they’re not bright,
Scrubbed to sobriety.
I passed a blotch I’d seen before,
But it might lie to me.  

This line may loop into a square,
And no one’s first or last,
And all who’ve shuffled patiently
Are doomed to lose the past.

Did I ascend to this closed floor
By staircase or by lift?  
Outside must lie some wider world,
Denied a precious gift.    

The walls are bare of openings,
But we need only one.  
Quiet can’t be the sole reward
For everything we’ve done.