Liberty in the Library
Freedom is found amongst carts and shelves.
When pages kiss with delight
There’s a sense that the paper
Is sparking to ignite
The mind’s sacred taper.
Words flow in the solemn place.
There is a hushed calm.
Once quiet, the face
Can be held in the palm.
With great intent and wonder,
There’s nothing to fear.
Magazines and periodicals go under
And audio clips help one hear.
The sweet feeling of light of the mind
Leads the weary traveler to a book.
Who knows what she’ll find?
A curiosity begins with a look.
The sound that grants life
Is the crack of a spine.
In any other case it would be a knife
Stabbing at the backbone line.
Here, though, hardbacks ascend.
Soft covers swirl in the soul.
This is a place where ideas tend
To make one truly whole.
About the Creator
Skyler Saunders
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More stories from Skyler Saunders and writers in Poets and other communities.
Smartystan
Chanda sent home money every two weeks. In a small village in India, she deposited money into the bank account of her aunt and uncle who sent her to live in America. The place seemed so remote, almost cut off from the rest of the country. There, a festival took place where participants hurled cow eliminations at each other. The muddy, mucky sense of it had been known for centuries. Locals tied it to an ancient god who they believed restored people’s health with the cow plops. During the festival, thick patties passed through the air and smushed into the bodies and faces of those rollicking around in the filth.
By Skyler SaundersExclusive • 6 days ago
Comments (2)
aowsem
Interesting and unconventional.