A shadowy shop with
Shelves that bend and buckle
Under the weight of years.

The dust of  the decade
Lies undisturbed

Volumes lined in motley ranks
Anthologies, albums and almanacks
Heaped in
Precarious stacks.
A few flaking pamphlets.

Dream-like sepia images
Dog-eared and damp
Bulge from mildewed and
Musty manilla.

Some are excited by
The acrid smell
Of old books.

Not sure that I am.

A bargain box or a treasure chest
Who cares.

Festered and forgotten
Between the yellowing pages of
A railway timetable
Lie someone's drawings.

Quite clever.
A little deranged, if you ask me.
Nice colours

But you wouldn't want them on your wall.