The wood misses us, rooms you can stroke,
the friend’s bed, come stand still
awhile. You can home deliver a hug
just like this sound, this call, this prayer.
Look: the bannister is giving us ballet lessons
and at night the tram sings
about how the pigeons look when they have fallen
asleep.
The Amsterdam Museum commisioned Iduna Paalman to write this poem about the collection of Corona in the City. Translated by Agnes Matthews.