a wednesday in december

3 1 1

by betweenthebones

by betweenthebones

i purchased
a dozen books
from the local
Oxfam.

all varied in shape
and genre,
all new to me.

it's marvellous
what discarded
treasures can be found
in tiny towns

and now they belong
to me.

which shelf shall these
worlds of paper
call home?

a thought to ponder
as i mindlessly
flick through pages...

handwriting, scrawled
and cramped,
catches my eye.

"read in Spain 2018, 7/10"

grab another book,
flick, flick, flick

"July 2019 UK, 5/10"

another

"Merry Christmas! 2016, 3/10"

"read in France 2017, maybe a 8/10 - have not made my mind up yet"

"Belgium 2015, 6/10"

"Sept 2019 UK, 2/10"

same writing, different pens.
i've come across
someone's personal
library

by pure luck.

all were dotted
round the shop,
separate and unassuming

yet here they are
in my study
together

as they always should be.

i wonder who this
collection belonged to.

why give it up?

open one more book
hoping for a clue:

"Peter,

to keep you amused
on those sad evenings
when I'm not at
home!

all my love, Stella"

Peter.

I promise I'll
take good care
of these stories
for you.