After a satisfying dump
And Men's room joking, some bonhomie,
My legs, without a mission, trundled in,
Not knowing where to find an inspirational stop,
For the weekend gaze and reverie .....,
To a library nestled in a big university.
Wooden walled, well lit and sunny streams.
Carpets and sparse crowd of inviting chairs.
Kind busts and smart paintings keep gazing
At a silent girl working, her head in her book,
At a guy playing with the piano playfully.
Outer world's noise muffled incoherent,
Except for a persistent bird call nearby,
The occasional footstep or passing chitchat,
The mounted Fan's intent tennis-fan whir,
This place's silence hands an unpleading invitation.
In a time and style of its own and the world,
A mix of equal present and equal past,
This room's setting, the bound books on shelves,
The antique piece, elaborate wooden ship models,
The unlit stone fireplace, the grand piano,
(And the plastic creepers, the hand-sanitizers,
The electric outlets, computers and magazines),
Reminds me, though I don't partake often,
Of the charm, spaces such as this held
Upon the scholar back then, and still hold
For the silent spirit.
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*The Browsing Library, WSH, Cornell
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