virtual worlds

A whirl, light,
and within an opened
plane stands every bookspine.
Multitudes offer typed
fellowship, windows cross
blare and vanish.

Remember the white
box below the mirror.
The velvet compartments
that folded out,
stone rainbows with hinges,
frozen stars and clasps,
touching pearls.

Remember the mirror,
and off to the side
a single greying photograph
of mom and dad at their wedding.