i touched the buttons
actually having to
erase needed time
reading instructions

as a child the card catalogue
an escape hatch
saturdays spent in dark corners
our local library a getaway
a reprieve
a sanctum

but now everything is online
and the single floor of books here
in the basement, confined, kept hidden
moving tombs their home

i started with the term feminism but landed elsewhere;
phenomenological studies of women
journals not older than i
but long outdated
historically sad

the library made me cry
i wanted to read everything
but also bring it home
a little girl in the patchogue library once again,
alone and crying.