This library is
hushed and quiet.

But that
is nothing special.
Nearly all libraries
are hushed and quiet;
they all seem to be
redundant in this way.
All are quiet.

Unless they are
children's libraries
because, for whatever
reason, children seldom
know how to whisper.
Or read, for that matter.

But this isn't a
children's library
It is too quiet
And if this were
a children's library,
I wouldn't be here.

But here I sit,
at this faux-wood table
and put headphones
into my ears
and play some Sinatra
to block out the roar
of the hush and quiet.

I pretend to be studious
Because this is a student's library
And studiousness seems
to be a common costume
here.

Heads bent over books
And eyes bent under tables
to see the fingers
bent around phones.
Heads bent together
Mouths bending words.

Hushed and quiet.