MY PERSONAL LIBRARY, DRIFTING APART AGAIN

 

 

MY PERSONAL LIBRARY, DRIFTING APART AGAIN

Like continents drifting apart

My lost books

The ice cracks on the floe

And half is going away from the other half

And friends long cherished will not come back, I know

My lost books have departed.

How many times formed and reformed

The glittering configurations

Of the books I loved, that angels led me to

In a time of renunciation to prove my love for God

I turned my narrow shoulders away

From them all.

And then my coral reefs grew and grew

And I was a happy dreamfed mariner among them

Then came the disconsolate years when I thought it all smooth

And one by one I sold the most beautiful for pittances.

Then fortune renewed, I bought them again

Out from a strange captivity

Suffered sometimes excoriating words

From those who couldn’t understand

How one small person could be so selfish

To accumulate them, or landlords quibbled

They’re a fire hazard

Or just looked very annoyed.

Now again I have to abandon so many.

Like a beaver I will repair the breach

The grim fairytales reaped

And after death, return a day or two to say

I loved them all, each volume seemed so full of grace

And now, I love them still.

And better than I did on earth.

mary angela douglas 23 march 2024