Bookshop Drizzle

afternoon is drizzling down

rain drops sliding on city

glass

dampness perfumes the air

forgotten leaves line the streets

a half an hour in a famous

bookshop

squeezed in

during the lunch break

glancing over the works of

dead poets

or

illustrations of modern

artists

feeling a wave of slight

depression

the very thought of working

late

but never mind it could be worst

or is that just a myth, a lie!

a piece of prop….

so here am I

writing in the corner of a bookshop

surrounded by intriguing books

years of accumulated wisdom

is there anything new to say?

is there anybody really

listening

it’s not youth wasted on the young

it’s something else entirely….

 

By Paolo Michell

 

 

 

 

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About pmisteil

Hi, my name is Paul though I write under other names like, Thatcher and Paolo, I love literature, art and architecture their passion and drama....the contradictions. The notion of Truth-who is the person behind the mask? Or does it matter! I like long walks and longer conversations over cappuccinos in a cafe with atmosphere and the rest is a journey!
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