
It’s a Biblichor Thing
Grandpa’s bookcase
with every book he ever owned
was left to my mother
when he died.
Bevelled glass doors
and cut crystal knobs
as shiny as
King John’s ransom.
I earned pocket money
dusting those old books,
a biblichor scent giving me
a pinched headache as if
those books had pressed
their fingerprints on my skull.
For Twiglets #233 “Like Fingerprints” Photo by Gabriella Clare Marino on Unsplash. Shared with @Experimentsinfc #APoemADay on Twitter ©Misky 2021
Leave a Reply