Thursday, 16 July 2015

In the La Trobe Reading Room

[Nature Scribe ventures inside for a change. A poem about being in one of my favourite indoor places in the world.]



In the reading room,
That sacred place of words,
A child calls out in another tongue.
Or perhaps the wordless tongue of everychild.
She, liking the effect, sounds it again
And again, filling the dome.
How could I frown or shush?
For this too is sacred.




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