A lady sat close to me in the library,
Bullet journaling.
I was busy reading.
To my right, a man sat,
Fumbling with his laptop.

Snow filled my view
Through the window—
Vehicles passing by,
People strolling.
I watched it all from the comfort of my first-class seat.

I listened to music,
Getting lost in stories,
Yet still, I heard life moving around me—
Voices chatting, the world revolving.

I asked an old lady how she picked the books she wanted to read.
She told me she reads the preface to see if she likes it.
I wished her a good day and held onto a book,
And as I did, she smiled and said,
"That might just be the one."
So, I picked it.