the mask

The Mask


The mask near the window in the museum, of ancient
mostly stolen art, was asleep in the dark of the night,
its new director, an efficient man, doesn’t like waste
of energy. The mask shouldn’t be so near daylight as
it hurts its old eyes and, also, the mask had seen it all.
Tribal wars to mass hangings as seen from a camp SS
commandant’s window; the officer had worshipped it
as evil, a mask that had been carved by an artisan and
thus given soul. Himmel! An allied soldier had taken
the mask as a trophy, in the following years it was sold,
bought and stolen again till ended it up in a museum.
Yes, the mask should be left alone in a corner away
from prying eyes. It had seen enough. Also, gentle light
was good for the mask’s perennial complexion.