Many memories invested there,
missed the calf-sweet scented air,
finis – all book-worm exchanges;
locked the dampened door that sticked,
dumb-struck the loud time-clock click:
no till sales rung up in lower ranges.
Shop stripped bare of many books,
ghost-empty shelves, dust-prone nooks:
all sold to dealers, or tipped in skip;
bookish conversations have ceased,
texts to all four winds released:
what value now published manuscripts?
Celsius-drop signals summer’s end,
brandishing wind makes boughs to bend:
changes temper autumnal air;
all rooms empty of authorial gathering,
silent the nerdy, expert blathering:
soon all summoned to that “winding stair”.
The phrase “winding stair” is used in Yeats’ poem “A Dialogue of Self and Soul ” an exploration of the spiritually-minded man of God, and worldly-minded man of the sword.