My day’s a hemisphere of eyeless stone
That rides on the axis of this room.
And in my mind the leaves of many books
Turn and fall
While on a shelf outside,
Space thoughtfully left
Beneath the sky,
The sunlight dips upon the wall
Birdswing breathing, stretching
Wide to the air. Through the glass
I see it now. Wombed in cold stone,
Floating among the silent leaves of books,
My mind spins on its axis; while this window holds
The world in a plane of light.