We look back, short-distanced,
on our piled-brick place,
once-removed, down-sized,
us, former-residents:
a re-settled family,
to that home we sold:
they’ll be embraced,
by its haunting’s enfold.
I met it often, not face-to-face,
Stair-cased, landed, hour too late.
Libraries’ hours will reduce,
their lending overdue:
Google will then charge us all
for e-book content view.
Our library is all knowledge,
day-long care and quiet reads,
our vast bookmark will be lost
if all we do is cede:
Loved tomes will not open,
nor the library’s oft locked-doors,
no free church for free readers,
we have to fight for more.
Less bookworm-work for staff,
all that knowledge has been sacked,
they may find jobs in Tesco’s,
where books aren’t freely stacked.
