It was easy to place History before Politics,
Medicine before Physicians; and
“Snow Fell on Cedars”
had to come after
“Escape From Alcatraz”.
But how was he to choose
Literature over Culture
or Astronomy over Alchemy?
And Asimov could go anywhere,
With his reflections about water
On the half-moons of Venus.
With bookcases brushing the ceilings,
And more volumes stacked halfway up walls,
melding the books, shuffling the pages,
was turning out to be the hardest part
of moving in together.
Amid the piles of unsorted memoirs he halted,
His unpacking abandoned.
He remembered the dancing, the dinners,
It was easy to place Love before Duty.