Wind flips grass pages;
trees stand as thick spines
I sit by an ant’s footnote
reading the earth’s small print
Clouds index their chapters;
birds annotate the margins
I bookmark a wish in stone
due back in another season
There’s no librarian
yet silence is returned on time
I recycle my noise
receive a pass called Ease
Dusk closes the cover
night binds it in cloth
I carry home a courage
to slow-read the city