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“In the Library” by Charles Simic, 1938 for Octavio  

There’s a book called

“A Dictionary of Angels.”

No one has opened it in fifty years,

Body
“In the Library” by Charles Simic, 1938 for Octavio  

There’s a book called

“A Dictionary of Angels.”

No one has opened it in fifty years,

I know, because when I did,

The covers creaked, the pages

Crumbled. There I discovered

 

The angels were once as plentiful

As species of flies.

The sky at dusk

Used to be thick with them.

You had to wave both arms

Just to keep them away.

 

Now the sun is shining

Through the tall windows.

The library is a quiet place.

Angels and gods huddled

In dark unopened books.

The great secret lies

On some shelf Miss Jones

Passes every day on her rounds.

 

She’s very tall, so she keeps

Her head tipped as if listening.

The books are whispering.

I hear nothing, but she does.

From http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/library. April is National Poetry Month. For more information about events, poets, and other poems visit http://www.poets.org/national-poetry-month/home.

Written by

Zach Miller
Head of Communications