“The Library” by d.w. moody

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.