The Show

The Show

The hinges creak closing time and the library door slams shut;
the key—a rusted Peeping Tom—
grinds its metal teeth,
clicks its metal tongue,
exhales disappointment at having to leave so soon;
a puff of dust explodes
from within the lock,
through the keyhole,
and over Luna’s fingers stretched out on the counter,
paging through late returns that whisper.
Windows rattle and the wind wails:
‘The show’s about to begin.’

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Show

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s