When the words fell like Rain
Thinning my Book shelves,
feels like cutting off chunks of flesh.
,The words inside plead to be spared.
Stacks of battered paper backs
hide in the corners muttering incantations
summoning fictitious gods.
History ,Economics , politics ,
science fiction , travelogs and poetry.
Cower beneath my touch.
Meanwhile boxes line up
by the front door like cattle cars
in a 1930's Polish Ghetto .
After leaving them at charity's door
I look at the empty places
left behind and cry.