Book | Gregory Burbank

Into the bookstore
What a lark! What a plunge
Into the soft, white lighting
And the warm, rich wood browns,
The heady aroma of coffee
Pervades the atmosphere.
What will I buy today?
Will I know it when I see?
A play, a novel, or anthology?
There, there on the bookshelf
I see you beckoning
Always have been waiting.
What treasure chest of
Black ink lies between
Your attractive covers?

When I first met you--
Ecstatic at my find.
But appearances deceiving
I liked you not at all,
But then I got to know you
The rich treasures that you hide.
I go to you for comfort
And solace in my grief,
For laughter and for memories,
For counsel and for tea.
Never rebuking, always returning
To you to you to you
And to that fateful day we met.