it was a refuge of sorts
so removed from the daily high school confusion
the high desert, prickly pear, rattlesnakes
and the town’s cycle of sameness
it had once been a furniture store
the old man had transformed it into a vast used book store
creaky wood floors, dull and marred
but warm and inviting to me
a gas heat stove sat in a circle of used easy chairs
a ragged but comfortable crew
shelves lined the walls and marched in rows to the back
bring two, take home one
or buy cheap
somehow the old man stayed in business
i was sitting next to the heat stove
pondering the pile of books in my lap
the old man stopped, holding a stack of magazines
“i got a new one you might like,” he said
he led me to the shelf that held a thin white book
almost lost among its neighbors
Howl it read
i took it down and a door opened
and i walked through
and life changed forever
