The library is vast and it’s been said
that there are doors
that open into doors to rooms and halls
are filled with books and scrolls.
Where you can find the future from the past.
When he was young the aged librarian
sometimes looked for keys
to hidden rooms where bones and books
would give him clues to hidden chambers
where texts not written yet were waiting for his hand
to seize its vein of rhymes;
but days have grown to months and years,
doors have closed and keys been lost.
He still keep a notebook, but
his ink has dried, and his hands are cold;
all he knows by heart are quotes from ancient days;
as a man of borrowed words
he still sees the doors but has lost the keys.
November 18, 2017