library

once
an afternoon in the library
(something feels at home in the library)
blinds drawn down
twisted open
to let in the travels of the sun
trees rustling anxiously outside
I sit in blocky furniture
so library
garish oranges and bright yellows
at least like the libraries
back home
trapped in a faded decade
books trapping the same past
deep within the binding
carefully selected
and stacked in the
corner of my cubicle
paging through academic magazines
that I read over the summer for fun
still now
I can't shake that feeling
this shouldn't be learning
and research
opening pages
this feels like
visiting an old friend or
returning home
to find mom has put the kettle on
for a mug of hot chocolate
the deep rooted feeling
of leaves falling
a blanket
and a good book