,i sit in the room .with a coffee and cranberry crumb

.i sit in the room of the library i have come to love most
,past the hustle and bustle of the circulation desk
,up the mighty brick staircase by the lunchers at
.the cafe ,past the rows and rows of old
,texts ,and their smell (that i may only relate
.to as age) through cubicles and the barrier
,of noise between them and the glass
.encapsulate that is this room

,this room where the sun peers over the rest of
,the campus ,and filters into rays of warmth
(,through even the wetting feel if the rain
.on the other side of the glass) ,you can
,feel the rain ,shadow on your face and
,the noise from down below as the students
.prepare for midterm examinations and papers

.it is quiet ,it is quaint with a coffee
.and cranberry crumb to keep me warm
,it is humble ,not at all troublesome
,to behold the chaos surrounding this
.glass encapsulate ,from the comfort and ease
.of my rocking chair