rows and rows of books
so orderly and clean
unlike the streets we play on
the light warm and inviting
unlike the shadows
from the buildings on our block
at night
the smile genuine
no ulterior motive
and as usual she greets me
as if truly glad to see me again
recalling things I’ve said
weeks or months before
finding one more magical book
to transport me
away from the grime and violence
in that moment
I know I am always welcome
not as a poor dirty kid
but just like everyone else
I hold back tears
that want to wash across my face
I wish I want I need
everyday to feel like this
d.w. moody grew up between California and the Midwest. He has lived on the streets, hitchhiked around the country, and held a variety of jobs in Kansas and Southern California until settling into life as a librarian. His poems have appeared in Shemom, The Avalon Literary Review, and Foliate Oak Literary Magazine.