Poem: The Secondhand Book

I am a book, remaindered on a shelf.

  O take me down and dust me off,

    I still can bring delight.

Once I was new and valued for myself,

  My pages bright, my boards of cloth –

    Ah then I brought delight.

Now on the lower shelves the readers browse,

  While I look down and mutely sigh

    I still can bring delight.

There once I welcomed readers to carouse

  With me enthralled and hold me tight,

    For then I brought delight.

I can’t believe it’s over and I must

  Resign myself to indifference

    While still I hold delight?

Tho faded my jacket and on my top sits dust

  If opened up my heart holds sense

    And still can bring delight.

Reflections on poetry hunting to compile a program of Savile poets. March 2019.