pink roses and books

Behind the convent
in a secluded courtyard
outside the tree row
of over-grown evergreens,
pink roses linger.

Straggly and thorny
descendants of ancient roots
come forth in renewal
each Spring unaware
that their time has passed.

Shaded from the midday sun
cooled by a natural draft
stone wall forms a basin
now forgotten and bare
remember tender shoots there.

A stone bench invites
weary passers-by
or guests who pause for a rest
against the cool walls
within the mottled, thin shade.

Inside the stone walls
quiet shelf-lined room
almost adequate fixtures
afford warm lighting
cast upon neat rows of books.

A stranger enters
looks around at the volumes
with foreign titles…
words of other languages
she wished she could read

The stranger leaves with a smile
and the librarian mulls
who she was…and why?
no interchange between them,
except love of books.

Sitting on the bench
again in the once-garden,
the air was now warm
she wondered whoΒ  sat there once…
and who might sit there again.

Β©Sometimes,2016

10 thoughts on “pink roses and books

      1. one of my favorite spots in San Cristobal…part of a huge old church, circa 1540 near a market…one of those places that one just soaks up the atmosphere of the ages… πŸ™‚ I’m thinking it was Dominican

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  1. There are phrases here that are wondrously distinctive: “pink roses linger,” “descendants of ancient roots,” and more. Makes your reader (this reader) want to be there.

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