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Two Floors High
The books, two floors high,
levitating toward my upper limbs.
Not costly. Worth every penny.
Spread out by the tablefuls.
Grateful for this claustrophobic,
pyrophobic atmosphere.
Pages fingered, on bindings linger -
what’s the subject…who’s the author?
Snatch up before the next in line. Don’t
get left behind. At the end of the line with bags, boxes,
wagons, carts, kids. Hand full of dollars spent
sans burns, scars; no heart attacks.
Smiles upon smiles find
their way back to the packed parking lot.
At home, a lovely spread of books.
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
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