Poetry Sunday

February is one of those yucky months when most days are too cold, too wet, or too generally yucky to do anything outside. These are the days a good library or bookstore is a godsend for helping you pass the time. Every book tells a story, and some of those stories are more personal than we might like ...

Used Book 

by Julie Kane 

What luck—an open bookstore up ahead

as rain lashed awnings over Royal Street,

and then to find the books were secondhand,

with one whole wall assigned to poetry;

and then, as if that wasn’t luck enough,

to find, between Jarrell and Weldon Kees,

the blue-on-cream, familiar backbone of

my chapbook, out of print since '83—

its cover very slightly coffee-stained,

but aging (all in all) no worse than flesh

through all those cycles of the seasons since

its publication by a London press.

Then, out of luck, I read the name inside:

The man I thought would love me till I died.

 

Have a good day. Read well. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo