Library Poem by Elizabeth Shield

Shelves for books and shelves for thoughts
Boxes, leaflets and brochures
Wrought iron ends the paper lineup
Silken characters thread old scrolls
Tape recorders, card catalogues
Mental and physical meet in mahogany
Curl upon couches, dance ‘mongst the dust.
American typewriter; the scribe of yore
Mingling, the past with the present
Macintosh holds the blinking future
Or does it?
Fingers still sliding with silky pleasure
Through a worn tome; minds trawl
Still searching for treasure; still
Discovering truth