I love the library, for more reasons than I can possibly express. While working there today I made a list of intriguing titles as I wandered the stacks. Each line of this poem, including the title, is from that list.
Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.
History of the rain
what the waves know
the yellow eyes of crocodiles
exposed
the time between
love and ordinary creatures
hard to handle
the night falling
untethered
into the beautiful north
they may not mean to, but they do
listen to me
a city breathing
secret of a thousand beauties
chasing fire
reckless disregard
The Daily Compost 