Bury Me in a Library

I love going to libraries – any libraries. Childhood memories of going to the old Richfield library with my father – I can still smell all the books on the shelves and see the large globe in the entryway (if that’s where it really was). Libraries are full of opportunity: so many books to read, so much opportunity. If you pick a book you don’t like, simply return it. No money wasted like Barnes and Noble, except for tax dollars. Now as a parent I am struck by the dichotomy of the library as a place of quiet study and reading and its “public space” functions and children’s room where noise rules. So I wrote this little poem. A library would be a nice place to spend eternity. Just the right combination of quiet rest and contemplation, and a glimpse to the boisterous screaming, laughing future.

Bury Me in the Library

When I die, bury me in a library.
To lay forever beneath it’s quiet floors, slamming doors
Trod upon by muffled feet, and scurried over by laughing shrieks
Catching up on books unread,
Sharing my thoughts with both living and dead.

©2004, John Gisselquist