Sarah St Vincent Welch #146 in the glass

in the glass of water

on the black glass table

book spines pantone

concertina fold in light

in fluid  

at a reading in the library

foyer, I listen and thirst

never sated

all the words and stories

I will never drink

the spirals of shelves

recollections shaped

we wonder at

I watch the glass and listen

meniscus brink

shades, refractions

the distraction of beauty

storm at the window

flint clouds

lip print moon on rim

blur of print within

the water in the glass

magnifies, distorts

images of books

the image of worlds

spoken words

fragments read out loud

enter us, we question them

they fracture in the glass

on the dark glass table

the books’ split 

a symbol an image

I ask for the glass to be

returned so I can catch it

make it memory

pass it on, but

what I see and hear

eludes me