The Bookstore

A poem about what its like to work in the bookstore.

The Bookstore

In this land of dusty treasures
All our dreams and many pleasures
Hidden from a passing glance
Until that day a patron asks:

I’m looking for a book
A book, mind
Do you have a book?

A pale blue cover
A man on the back
‘Twas on TV
Do you have that?

With a suppressed giggle
And a thoughtful sigh
An eavesdropping co-worker
Gives a triumphant cry

I know that one
I know the book
That’s the new one
About the deranged cook

A thankful customer
Leaves the store
With awestruck feelings
Of our book-bound lore

And on to the next customer
Run, run, run
With satisfied feelings
Of a job well done.