You never know when the old elevator will go down at the University Library, and have to walk up or down the height of 3 flights of Victorian age spiral marble staircase with Brass Railings.

Weak-kneed, I find this time
the doors flung wide,
the bowels exposed,
cross-sectioned, a maze
of heavy metal
intricately condensed
into that small space.

From deep inside
this sculptor's pure delight
A voice rings out:

"He was a genius who didn't live
to see
the fruits
of his labor."

"Who?" I asked,
peering into the dark machinery to see
a bearded face
sandwiched sideways
into the contraption.

"Why, Mr. Otis!" He exclaimed.
"--Though it set his children up
quite handsomely.
--and their children's children."

He said our elevator was one of the old ones,
quite a work of art,
so well built.

A bit
of reassurance.

J. Gatten
7/6/95