The Undead on Vellum
Fragility is what ideas are made
Of. They are broken crystal or at most
Pink diamonds in fire, and if their shade
Were blue they’d be like waves against a coast
Of monsters. They are flotsam or like spume
On black beach sand. They spill themselves in light
And disappear like mist and morning fume
From fires. Ideas are damsel flies in flight
Or at the best the large majority
Are cryogenically consigned to books.
Such thoughts can only wield authority
In paper ponds, in frozen paper brooks.
..Sometimes a scholar opens up these tomes
….And finds in them the runic brains of gnomes.