LIBRARY – A POEM

Writing

I have sat here for hours;

Rows intersect and expand,

As if every inch of the room

is moving outward,

A universe.

Military lines of books bound

and stacked, marching down 

a shelf that seems to run forever;

I wish I could too,

But I might find myself

between these pages 

if I stay.

 

OTHER WRITING

 

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