Realignment

A downpour of books—sheet upon sheet
of books like chequered snowflakes. Books
like mortarboards returning from
on high. And each of them falling
into an ocean of flames.

A downpour of books—without a hope
of quenching the fire, but feeding it.
For they are not a patch on falling
rain. In fact, they are not falling
at all—but lifting, gliding

through nature’s invisible gullies
and into the outstretched arms
of a bloated, aging star.