A scent     rather quietly     loves
the library.     Readers  look up:   a
life of paper     inside  the great
Life:  scent of greenly     ravished civilization ~
dream of inspiration     freed.  When a
book is     lifted     from horizon’s steel
that mystery     object  spreads     an oddness
each call number     a timeling  of
yellow math,      its curve     leftover from
epic.     The mind  had no  periphery
for meaning,   the several phoenician,  sailing
sideways     through vowels of the dead.

