I wrung the water from my clothing
When I found the Brightglass Archives
A place to dry my head and toes
Just perhaps lured by the windows
Which had named the Brightglass Archives
They were kinder suns, watching over me
Or a call seeking those who roam
There was once a jealous scholar
One who chose the Brightglass Archives
To keep his hoard of priceless scrolls
Thus he hid how he was jealous
Though he feared the Brightglass Archives
Could somehow make his studies meaningless
Were they to be more widely known
A faded floor plan hid a staircase
High above the Brightglass Archives
I climbed and found a mound of notes
All meticulous instructions
How to use the Brightglass Archives
“It’s a real shame nobody read a thing,”
Said the architect, or her bones
The tide rose higher in the evening
To deluge the Brightglass Archives
Washing the words from all their tomes
There came no-one with an inkling
How to save the Brightglass Archives
So I pulled up my clothes as I waded out
And I decided to go home
Angles 