Readers and writers are two sides of the same gold coin.
You write and I read and in that moment I find
A union more perfect than any club I could join:
The simple intimacy of being one mind.
Here in a book-filled sun-lit room below the street,
Strangers -- some living, some dead -- are hoping to meet.
I just finished Keillor's book of sonnets, and enjoyed so many of them. This was one of my favorites, and appropriate to post here both for its title and its book-loving thoughts. Others I particularly liked include "Supper," "In a Cab," "Speak to Me," "Sonnet for a Major Birthday," and, from his twelve-months cycle, also "March" and "December."Just a quick note for Poetry Friday this week. I hope to write more sometime soon about Keillor and his poems, as well as his bookstore, which is the "book-filled sun-lit room below the street" in the poem above. I haven't had much time to post recently, but plan to get back to it soon. You can find more lovely poetry reading over at Scrub-a-Dub-Tub, this week's Poetry Friday host.
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