The Bookstore

The sign grabbed my attention and would not let go.Books. Used. New. Rare. Buying. Selling.Scratched in paint, a neat white column of lettersThat draws me down into the undercroft.Inside I find a man who appears even older than his waresSquinting at the world through gold spectacles.The musty smell of old dust jackets, leather, yellowing pagesFills… Continue reading The Bookstore