In a Used Book Store
The other day, in a new town and with some time to kill,
I wandered into a used book store. It smelled wonderful..
dusty and well loved. The proprietor was more than happy
to lead me to the poetry corner, and a corner it was..snug
and cozy, with an entire wall of old books. In heaven, I
settled in for some browsing, Pablo Neruda love poems,
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Khalil Gibron ,and many,
many poets that I was not familiar with. The minutes passed..
and then my eye was caught by The Penguin Book of
First World War Poetry, .published in 1979...
edited by Jon Silkin, London, England.
By the end of the next hour the tears were brimming.
The stories of unimaginable pain and horror, death ,
and yes, beauty, touched me deeply. And the final glory..
On page 85..In Flanders Fields ", between the crosses, row on row.."
In spidery script, someone had written.."In 1933, Poplar, Montana-
I recited this on Armistice Day, and I can still do it today..."
An ordinary day, became an extraordinary day..
Inspired by the poem...Old Books..., written by Constance~~ A Rambling Poet
For the contest --I Am Sending You a Gift of Poetry, Dear Heart..
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2010
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