Unaccompanied,
she wanders into
The
children’s room,
Violating
rules written and unwritten
But the
Librarian doesn’t stop her.
She wanders
into
The
children’s room
Takes a seat
at the low table
Opens books
at random
Disarranging
the piles.
The eighth
book, familiar to tears,
Scarred into
her memory,
Tale of a
lost child,
abandoned
taken by
strangers
rejected
returned to
the grocery store.
over and
over,
until he is
claimed by his
rightful
mother and
carried home
to tea.
She has no
child to carry home
And brews
her tea with the
Warm salt
water streaming from her eyes.
It is
closing time.
The
Librarian asks if she would prefer muffins or
toast for breakfast tomorrow
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