The Librarian

In the medical library he rescues sopping books
and bound journals after a hailstorm shatters
skylights. He deposits volumes in a freezer,
cures and spreads each across his desk,
separates pages to prevent fusing.
Humming industrial-sized fans witness
his first aid, paper towels between still damp
sheets of 300-page textbooks where perforated
lungs, gangrened limbs, and septic bloodstreams
plead for healing. When the boss wants to jettison
print journal collections and textbooks
for extra table and chair space, he crusades
to save the endangered. After flood,
after preservation campaign, he acquires a patience
few possess. One night, depleted post-migraine,
his wife snoozes in their car. He shrugs
off jacket, opens passenger door, reaches
for her arm and waist, guides her into their home
as if handling sheets from a soggy volume,
as if primed for another restoration.