The aged librarian is the caesura
in a reading when we
still are silent, waiting
We glance sideways,
explore the lint on threadbare cloth.
And we exhale, relieved
when with a nasal voice it starts again.
The aged librarian is a shadow
of that sigh.
Stacie asks us to write on metaphors at toads, and whenever I starts to write I think of my aged librarian who is in himself a metaphor but could be described with a metaphor.
January 20, 2017