Library

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

      Quite silently

    While on a shelf outside,

    Space thoughtfully left

      Beneath the sky,

The sunlight dips upon the wall

          Alive –

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.