I recall The library’s high shelves
Where I would delve
For books.
Often I forsook
My peers
To read
And on solitude feed.
All those years
Gone by.
I sigh
And wonder why
The past holds such sway.
And we humans lose ourselves in yesterday.
Oh how easy it is to perspective lack
As we gaze back
Down childhood’s track.
I remember the schoolyard’s din
And the wanting to join in.
Sometimes I ran with the crowd
Yet my nature proud
Held me apart
And I solace found in art.
I see the library now
And wonder how
The school goes on
Now that I am gone
An whether books still stand
Waiting to command
The future poet’s hand.
K Morris - Poet 
I was a ‘frequent flyer’ at the school library, the local library and the big library in the city centre. They were the only places I could find quiet and peace. I used to meander between the shelves, finding little corners to sit in or a window ledge, or a corner chair to make myself invisible so I could lose myself in a tome. Unfortunately the school library and local library have gone and they have modernised the big library so I don’t recognise it anymore – all neon lighting and plastic desks. I wonder what they did with all of the lovely oak panelling and shelving, very sad.
Thank you for your comment Kate. I am a big fan of oak shelving and traditional libraries in general. I, like you lament the demise of the traditional library. I love your description of meandering between the shelves. Best, Kevin
Thanks Kevin :0)