From My Bookshelves

Spiritual dragons – the ones that kill
reside and wait impatiently for seeking fingers.
Hobbits eat breakfast mushrooms
in a leather-bound shire.
Small books on overly large religions.
Poets and their random works
all in a row.

The shelves are long but not lengthy
I lack the space for unnecessary reading.
I write now,
I write inside invisible books
they open and shut every day like mouths.
Few read the words that tumble out,
but the news from my bookshelf
is encouraging.

I need to categorize and order,
not alphabetically ranked by authors
or subjects
but by how much I have yet to comprehend
and need to read again.
© Now
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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