Arcane

Tree lined paths
Leading to ivy covered halls
And beneath the floorboards
Beneath the tranquil libraries
Beneath the chalk dusted classrooms
Traces of cigar smoke
And expensive cologne hang
In the narrow staircase
Hints of ash smear white
On the antiquated iron rail
A drop of wax
An insinuation of candles
In a world of fluorescent
A fleeting glimpse of a
Cryptic gesture around a corner
All suggest something
That ripples beneath the pavement
Decades, centuries, eras will pass
The Latin mottos will still
Scrawl across desks
Specters of something
In the shadows