Silent Poem

April 15, 2011
An inky, crisp smell invades my nose

I hear the crinkle and swish of a page turning

A frail librarian smiles at me
People pass my soft bench without a thought

I hear the beep of books checking out

The shelves are decorated with colorful spines
I run away from reality with fantasy

I hear the eager giggle of children

The pages seem warm in my hand
Steinbeck, Austen, Poe, Plath, Shakespeare,

I hear the voices between the lines

New and ancient ideas of others shake and turn my head.
No place different still safe

I hear silence and my own bated breath

An adventure in a quiet place

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writingmagic26 said...
May 16, 2011 at 9:08 pm
That's exactly how I feel when I visit a library!   Good job capturing the feel of thsi experience!
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