What is the matter with the sky?
It is raining down books like snowflakes,
they are just gently falling down, melting
into dust when one tries to read them,

And the miles to travel to those words,
the years it takes, my, what a journey.
Walking through northern Norway
with ice breaking beneath where you stand,
you feel the cold, it is sharp, it brightens
your vision and the mountains grow blurry.
You think about how it rained down books in
New York City but no one could read them.