Christmas Lights in the Library in February

Dripping, draping
shapes of soar and swoon,
wood’s shine beneath
one hundred stars tethered
to bookcases or perhaps
they are feathers’ moonlit
gleam. Oddments of shine

fill the room. A little brown
bird peers through the window
at my curious night sky on
the walls as I pull a poem
from the shelves that I have
read far too often, and now,
once again by starlight.

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