Let’s write a poem now, here at the library. It’s air conditioned. Desk and chair pulled up close to a window with a view that looks like a postcard. The authors of all the books call out to me shouting, whispering, enticing me by yelling out their titles, announcing their chapters. If they could, the books would propel themselves off their shelves. They would fling themselves at me, dance around, do cartwheels and flips. Their antics delight me. I choose one. The others sigh and groan. I check it out and it walks with me down the picture postcard street to home.
Madlynn Haber
Madlynn Haber lives with her dog, Ozzie, in a cohousing community in Northampton, Massachusetts. Her work appears in the anthology Letters to Fathers from Daughters, Random Sample, Buddhist Poetry Review, Dissonance Magazine, K’in Literary Journal, Muddy River Poetry Review and other journals. Online at http://www.madlynnwrites.com