If, on these library steps I had been
You may never have seen me again,
I’d read all the books from the top to the ground,
Deaf to the world I might never be found.
As the pages of each book became unfurled,
I’d escape to the beauty of each fantasy world.
I could stay in this quiet world casually reading,
Awareness of the real world slowly receding.
For who wouldn’t want this glorious respite.
From the chaos of the world we find now in our sight.
© DiAnne Ebejer