What I Know

The State Library in late evening
is an ancient world: low light
outside trickling through glassed-ceilings,
wooden floors gleaming against the dimness,
shadowed figures about to leave.
These quiet hours you walk into the musty
odours of old volumes, feel the movement
of a hushed dialogue, like stiff wind
upon brushwood. The time of your death
was when you’d have been here, wandering
through the stacks, one of your weekly
rituals. Early that day there’d been a
rare shipment from Canberra of some
French Literature. You’d have liked
to browse at their titles; you’d have
liked to run a finger down their
spines, leaf through the pages;
you’d have liked to be here.

5 comments

  1. This ancient world is a retreat for a quiet soul, tired of the endless hustle and bustle, tired of Facebook and Instagram, tired of Christmas parties and overconsumption. She’d rather drown in the waves of literature, surround by the musty odours of old volumes, and feel the loneness . She feels a strange sense of comfort in this ancient world, as if she has come home. My home.

    Beautifully illustrated, Vera. So atmospheric, so tense.

    Take care my dear friend. You’re missed. Much love ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, dear Isabelle. Yes, how a quiet space can be a sanctuary for the soul. I am not surprised the poem has resonated with you, my lovely friend. Love, always ❤

      Like

  2. This is so beautiful…sits heavy in my heart in a lovely way. ❤️❤️❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, dear friend!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Absolutely my pleasure, Beautiful Vera. I truly missed Your poetry. And I have to say seeing that You and Sweet Isabelle have become such dear friends makes me smile so big. Reading Y’alls correspondence is like reading a book of letters that would be published. I’m a huge fan of both of Y’alls writing. Truly Lovely to see it dance! ❤️

        Liked by 1 person

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