Everything and nothing
He knows by heart of apex moments, battles and the cusps of past, not from life or death but from the pinnacles of books and voices only he have glimpsed. […]
Category Archives: the aged librarian
A keeper of the past
In spring the aged librarian sees in books the bloom; that from the words a growth of pansies and peonies, of columbine and blue forget-me-nots, and there are daisies, daffodils […]
Shadows in the library
There are moments when he talks to shadows. He knows they care and never interrupt to leave him like a light might do. The moon, the sun even candles shine […]
The last days of the library
Even as the walls have crumbled, in the final days of our Atlantis, the aged librarian can breathe in company of books. He’s calm among the thought of elders. among […]
I care for carvings
I cannot count each layer laid, on the back of bark, from rise of sap, for every year a ring for every spring I’ve grown. I have seen the aged […]
