A Poem for a Thursday #166

I can’t remember where I came across this poem. I think I might have read it on someone else’s blog so, if it was you, thank you. I love it. I think every reader and book lover can relate to this. I now want to spend my day browsing through stacks of books and searching for treasures. To be honest, that is how I would like to spend most days.

Just looking at them
I grow greedy, as if they were
freshly baked loaves
waiting on their shelves
to be broken open--that one
and that--and I make my choice
in a mood of exalted luck,
browsing among them
like a cow in sweetest pasture.

For life is continuous
as long as they wait 
to be read--these inked paths
opening into the future, page
after page, every book
its own receding horizon.
And I hold them, one in each hand,
a curious ballast weighting me
here to the earth.

The Bookstall
Linda Pastan