Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Book Sale Poem

Today the UMBC library was having a book sale, and I ventured in.
The room was quiet, soundless,despite the fact that people were there.
But everyone in the room sort of knew, speaking would be like a sin.
The soft rustle of pages and musty old book smell filled the room's air.
Each one of us browsing respected the books and the material within.
The quiet respect was clear, each book we touched received great care.

The books were mostly academic, with some paperbacks about Berlin.
a quarter to two dollars, the prices for each book hardly seemed fair.
I skimmed the book spines, but on some, the spin was too thin.
One thin book I took off the shelf, a cookbook adorned with a pear.
Another book caught my eye, a graduation gift to make someone grin.
I lingered over the poetry, picked Evangeline by Longfellow as a dare.

As I walked out, I ran into another shopper leaving, his books in a bin.
He had a twelve book illustrated Civil War reference set, pretty rare.
Those are nice, I remarked, and he nodded, knowing it was a win.
He lifted his box and asked a friend for help, and they worked as a pair.
I purchased my small stack and put them in a bag, tied up with a spin.
And I walked out wanting to explain the feeling from inside that lair.

I recognize some of the rhyme is a stretch.
But it was fun to write and captures the feelings.

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