To a Friend

And you’re right when you scream so joyfully, Emilie –
You’re absolutely right!
Like the long-haired man smoking the cigarette,
Chattering,
Laughing,
Because he isn’t killing himself at the moment,
Is he?

And the tall, pale, mop-haired book-man,
Sitting hunched upon the steps
Becomes a person –
Because he drops his cigarette when we approach,
Acknowledges our excitement with a grin and
We know he is very much
Alive.

But I have found another ‘we’ –

So it is difficult not to scream so joyfully –
As I tell you about the magic
And you listen,
Oh, you listen!
And it dances all about us as we
Inhale the musty book-scents,
Dusty book-scents,
All so sweet –

I shan’t scare you away,
Though I like you such a lot –
And perhaps you care for me,
Just a dot.