Multicolored book
trucks still roll
into view. She muzzles
herself as she drifts

to a one-room
library circa 1970. Rain dazzles
the surface
of the island. The scent

of Mylar, settled-in
type, a lilac
perfume on the librarian
who reads

Blueberries for Sal
to a circle
of restless children. Next stop,

next town, the Flying Horses
to ring themselves off.
Then it fades away.