Posts Tagged ‘Underground New York Public Library’

A poem inspired by this amazing tumblr of people reading on the subway.

underground books

.

hands more varied in colour than

the pages they turn pause,

spread into lectern-cradles for words

ย .

as open-edged as breath, whose authors span

cities, countries, centuries more

varied than the scintillant plumage of birds;

ย .

each face unguarded, caught engrossed

in worlds-that-are-worlds-that-are-not (that are nonetheless

temporarily more real than

ย .

the darkened tunnels their carriage crossed

before this; may each voyage bless

them โ€“ eye, heart, ear & tongue) โ€“ and

ย .

when they land, bookblinked & isolate

on concrete sands,

let them recede gently, like seafoam;

ย .

let them be slow to close the cover; let them be late

for work; let ink & stories stain our hands

like henna, honey, loam.