Sunday, March 6, 2011
Sam picked up a couple of
mahogany piano crates to build himself
a bookcase and made a desk
from some walnut that got knocked down
near the back of his property.
He keeps his own poems loose leaf,
wrapped in oiled leather.
Spent more for the pen he writes with
than he did for that truck.
Figures his priorities are in perfect order.
Of all Sams stuff, he thinks his
books are the best of all.
Some fantasy, mostly Tolkien and
C. S. Lewis.
Everything Douglas Adams ever wrote,
a five volume leather-bound set of
Shakespeare for long winter nights
under the kerosene lamp.
A new Chaucer in Middle English,
and more poetry than he can count.
He studies Eliot, but likes
William Carlos Williams the best.
By: Vol Lindsey