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BOOK SALE POEM
by Georgiana Holmes, Library Volunteer
Two and a half hours,
Fridays, ten to twelve-thirty…
mine! All mine!
the mysteries, scifi’s,
the nail-biting excitement
of Tom Clancy’s nuclear subs,
Le Carré spies, Anne Rice
and her vampires, as well as
a civilized copy of two
of the blessed Austen.
In this small treasure-packed space
I can throw my arms wide,
touch on either side
Tom Sawyer’s white-washed fence,
almost sniff the roses
in Burnett’s Secret Garden,
watch T.S. Eliot measuring out
his life in coffee spoons.
Books on travel, philosophy,
biography, weather, a tome
to improve the state of your health,
your wealth, even -- dare I say --
your forays into poetry!
What could be more decadent!
Mine! mine to alphabetize,
display, to pat lovingly…
I’m a lion tamer at a book circus!
They advance, retreat on their shelves
as I crack my whip!
Even the overflow arena is packed,
shoals of paperbacks, stacks
of videos…well, maybe three
or four, they sell out quickly.
You, entering hesitantly
at the door, may I assist you?
Scarcely a dollar for an hour’s
leisure or rich delight. How about
a book called The Man Who Melted?
The Man Who Was Thursday?
The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing?
How can you resist?
Friday mornings,
ten to twelve thirty,
mine! all mine!
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