This story’s joyful journey
Is a delightful dance between dusty tomes

Though its evolution is one of tears and screams and bonfires
So much and many treasures have persisted
Cradled between countless comrades
In buildings of brick or wood or metal or stone
Cared for by those dedicated
To ensuring their charges survive
The multitude of sticky hands
And careless restocking these treasures encounter every day

These precious places
Create safe havens for young and silver haired alike
An escape into another world
Focused exploration into the unknown
Familiar friends with predictable responses

So many vital facets
Held together by a web of experiences
And contained within structures
Whose importance have declined
In the face of electronic transfer
As the tangible is slowly transformed
And forgotten