...a bit of a silly one really.
Waiting in a Bookshop
Pick a book, lick a book, seek, steal,
reach, flick or like me watch
and take notes. I sit above
with a bird’s eye and a nose stuck
in everyone’s business.
The flat cap looking for a bargain,
the floppy fringe playing with the pop-ups.
There’s a hint of you
in the back of every man’s head.
And me, I’m in a look, a coat, a flick of the hair.
In the vault of this one-time bank the walls are clothed
in books. I wait long enough to fall in love
and drink a gallon of coffee.
I wait an hour, perhaps
I wait a hundred years.