Duke Library

A poetic description of one of the Duke Libraries in North Carolina.

There is an 

old splintery desk up in the

Duke Library, twin across the lawn, up where rare go.

Secret messages carved with crude hands,

cruder thoughts.  If you follow the hallway

out, instead of pursuing the narrow metal, you

overlook modern silent history, chandeliers, and

scrollwork.  Go a bit further, there is an Oriental

room decked in red and unspoken Mandarin,

a soft carpet meant for feet,

not those feet in shoes constantly

rubbing away the threads of the universe.

Shh.  Be quiet.  This is a library after all.

The End

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