Sunday, December 22, 2013
Library Of A Man
You come from a wearing people,
The same people who forgave
And gave gifts of intelligence.
Their clothing suited gods and their
Sweet meals were charactered
Like the horizon of love.
A man who spent for his wife
Became embroidered by her
And the love they built was a deed
To scare any old ill man.
His name sounded vaguely familiar,
Even if he was hurt, or married.
I thought of his library,
And what was his library?
The books it harnessed were allegorical,
And reminded me of a man
In his late fifties producing a culture
In the very deeds of allegory.
My library is smaller sometimes,
As sumptuous books line the whispering
Shelves of non-foolishness and heights.