The Flight from the Library (a true story).Posted: April 1, 2012
Today I walked to the library,
I hoped to find a chair,
so you might find me amidst the pages
of Love and Mystery there.
The librarian leapt to be of assistance
When I requested books of poetry.
Tattooed on his forearm he pointed out
Byron, E. Browning, and Shelley.
We talked of poets, their art, their lives
For well over half an hour,
A young man reading next to me laughed aloud,
The musician next to him did nothing but glower.
Dickinson has a rhythm that’s easy to read,
Frost could go on forever.
Collins is sailing around the room,
Shakespeare these sonnets we never.
On the way home I encountered
A blue heron upon a yard wall,
Who only sat and stared at me,
He shouldn’t have been there at all.
Like a poem that can travel anywhere,
A bird in my city backyard
Alights and smiles at me on my way,
So close, and yet so far.
Contemplation, patience, successful hunt,
Symbol of adapting, like water.
Symbol of Wisdom, symbol of Light,
Watch the symbol