sanctuary

In downtown Kearney, there is a used bookstore called Book Ends.  I go there sometimes when I'm having a bad day, or just to buy a cheap book.  It's run by an older gentlemen who must do it for the love of books, not to make a fortune!  They have poetry readings there, too, periodically.  It smells like old books.  It's one of my favorite places in Kearney...

old man
sitting at his desk
English cap
covering up
inevitable hair loss

when he rises
he walks with
a limp
something mis-connected
at critical junctures

shuffles
limps
bearing a cane

amidst the
incense of
old books
yellowed pages

some with scribbled
dedications
or penciled underlines
of illuminated truths

I pay him alms
he gives me
the sacrament
of words on a page

he adjusts
his bifocals
counting out change

I leave the premises
blessed
the smell of immortal literature
still on my clothes.