L I B R A R Y

by Emily Crowe


I hear the pleasant keystrokes clacking
from a girl at a nearby table.
She is hard at work on a paper,
and I should be too,
but I cannot tear myself away
from the silence of this
resounding solitude.


I can see the hills nearby,
purple and dark in early evening dusk.
I see fog rising from the river,
an eerie condensing mist.
The bookshelves stretch away from me
in an endless wave of reflection.
It is peaceful here
on the top floor of the library.
I don’t know that I will ever leave.


I wish there was lightning
far off in the distance,
but night envelopes all
since winter still grips the land.
No snow even, just pure darkness.
The clock tower rings out,
shattering my peace
and ending my silent thoughts.