Book sale

Sometimes in time of distress
all I can think about are the
dollar carts of books how
nothing gave me more unexpected
joy than seeing those faded
metal carts outside the library
like somehow seeing texts in
their natural habitat dust glistening
underneath the hot autumn sun
browsing with my backpack &
lunch bag casually bouncing
against my side momentarily
gathered in peace and silence
before rushing up the hill to the
shuttle stop reveling in pages

Sometimes words are a balm. Sometimes words aren’t enough. Sometimes words are what you can offer.