The Book Of Love (A Magpie Tale)

A Magpie Tale

Sometimes I think I can see the shadows 

of the glitterball 

as I flick through the Non-fiction books

I can still hear the echoes

of the music

but no one turns to look

at the ghosts of the dancers as they step out

from the shadows

 and they pick up and move to the beat

to the dewey-decimal two-step

as it echoes

till the lady at the desk hears their call

and turning her pages

she fixes her glasses

and shushes them back to the wall

(this poem is inspired by the fact that my parents met at a dance-hall that is now a library)