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.


2 thoughts on “Finis

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