I hesitate.
Stepping sideways through the unfamiliar door, I shuffle between sagging, purpose-built shelves, moving slowly to give my eyes time to adjust. A spill of cracked spines, piled one on top of the other bulging floor-to-ceiling marked by the occasional cock-eyed, hand-written sign, a promise of some kind of order.
shadows
curtain the alcove—
a beard coughs
curtain the alcove—
a beard coughs
Sections run into each other; Literature, Do-It-Yourself, History, Cooking is separated from Self Help turning a corner
You will find Tasmania along a wall down the hallway, past a sprawling jumble of random miscellany and comics. There is nothing here for me. I head for the street.
You will find Tasmania along a wall down the hallway, past a sprawling jumble of random miscellany and comics. There is nothing here for me. I head for the street.
Fantasy
by the disappearing staircase
I hesitate.
by the disappearing staircase
I hesitate.
by Gina
Launceton, Tasmania, Australia
first published in Moonset, May 2008
1 comment:
A perfect description of some used bookstores I have seen. They get my hay fever going, but I love to poke through the piles. Your haiku are just on target with the prose.
Adelaide
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