In The Library Poem by Eoin Smith
In The Library
I find myself in a clearing.
Bookcases tower over me:
Redwoods in a forest of sublime knowledge.
Silently I wonder through foliage,
Searching for the elusive text;
The forbidden fruit.
I venture past ancient tomes,
Their spines faded and brittle as autumn leaves,
Their contents evergreen.
I take a deep breath;
The musty scent of pine hangs fresh in the air.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 7:49:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
