On the threshold of a new day
The seconds seem to crawl
To stall the aching sensations
I tell  myself I will go out, to the bookshop

The door sounds off and I enter
Every bookstore has a scent
The appeasing quietude stirs me
This is an enabling atmosphere
I synthesize the stimuli
A crisp new printing
Pearl, magenta, ruby red
Bold, italic, plain and pretty

I exit the enthralling world
The street’s beat has shifted
The cacophonies have subsided
The shift is replete
Rejuvenated and resplendent I return.