Lunch

After spending more than we had intended at Graceland,
my husband and I decided to get barbecue,
dry rub ribs, brisket, smoked chicken,
at a place near the National Civil Rights Museum,
so we could see that too.
The meat and mac n cheese sat heavy in our stomachs
when we walked over.
We did not know then that the National Civil Rights Museum
was the Lorraine Motel.
We turned a corner and all at once it revealed itself,
the railing, the mint green doors,
the sign, unbelievably cheerful.
And the parts became ordered in such a way that the realization
of where we were standing
punched me in the gut
and left me ashamed
that I came to such a place
with barbecue sauce on my shoes,
so ignorant of where we really were.