The Shelburne Museum

I will go to the Shelburne Museum
I will go to the Shelburne Museum and wear an ankle-length frock
Hold it up while I frolic down the rolling green hills
I will go to the Shelburne Museum and offer the taxidermy horses scraps of apple
As if I am a nineteenth century runaway on the streets of London
While in reality I've just stuffed myself with basil crepes and lemonade 
I will go to the Shelburne Museum and speak in a buttery southern accent
Or alternatively an Earl Grey English accent
And I will be an orphaned maid, mistreated but on an important espionage mission for the duke
Or a snobby-rich city girl uncovering dark secrets with her elegant eloquent friends
I will go to the Shelburne Museum and spend way too much time standing at the front of the one room schoolhouse
Looking out over my dutiful pupils who played in the schoolyard a hundred years ago
I will talk to every single volunteer until they have to make up an emergency and drive their golf carts quickly away from me
I will sit on the dirty floor of the larder on the Ticonderoga knowing that pirates have captured me
And in a few weeks they'll be calling me captain
I will hold sconces to cellar doors and chalk to chalkboards and skeleton keys to brass doorknobs and flowers to forgotten stone statues
And I will visit the carousel and ride it barely containing my joy into childish giggles
And the other patrons clutching their grandchildren's hands tightly will wonder if that girl forgot to take her meds that morning
So
I will go to the Shelburne Museum and live all the lives I've always wished I'd been born into
And I will fully ignore my privilege in favor of pretending to be a ragamuffin in a far off land living through fairytales
I will go to the Shelburne Museum and for a few hours feel pure bliss
And then I will go home and dream of the next time I can go to the Shelburne Museum