Library

I tip my stove-pipe hat, I rearrange my subject.
"Virtute et Industrie", riddled, chipped, a child's blue jumper
points traffic away from the hulk.

Exterior with a dark crust, a ladder of small pains betray a faint glow
Loaded shelves weight themselves quietly into the polished brown lino.
I remember touching their shadowy magic, reaching into their secret shallows.
hardly daring to breathe the heavy dust...

Mangled shopping trolleys appear beside snoozing regulars
Small magnetos simmer,
copper brushes spark, oils singe.
A bulldog clip connects fingers to the WAN.

Outside, beneath the tide-line of light,
a slow-mo man with a large box of chalk
is drawing more spots
on the legs of a wading dinosaur.