Nothing excites me moreThan stepping into a bookstore.Rows and rows of booksBeckoning me to pick them up.My gaze moves along the spinesFingers running over the words,Flipping through the pages. Nothing excites me moreThan stepping into a bookstore.My ears perk up at the conversationOf a group of peopleDiscussing the story of a book on the shelf.They … Continue reading The Bookstore (A Poem)