The library held the bridge of heaven:

a 4-metre squared skylight, solving water 
large enough for hush, and

     –    a child’s Richter scale of vowels and first
words: duhk, back-bird, cook-hoo,

the fiction section, the giant cat-fish
making the earth quake

alphabetising
     –     Admiral Perry’s gunboat

           gestating in the harbour – the gift shop’s revolving doors.