The library is quiet when it first opens, the only voices those on the shelves, their spines packed tight together to keep them from escaping without a proper swipe of the plastic card. Story time is still an hour into the future, so moms and their children are on the playground across the parking lot, being spring and all.
I like this time. The clickety clak of the keys keep company with my thoughts as I decipher little phrases scribbled in my notebook.
Empty page diary Man picking his nose
A mole unprecocious sits on the hill of her lip
and two knock, knock jokes i evidently made up that have to do with my life, or they did at some point.
"Hai", is all it takes for me to jump, so lost in the wander of thoughts.
Little stubby fingers pull at the cuff of my red t-shirt, crumbs from breakfast still in the pucker of flesh around his fingernails. He is blond, almost white haired, his upper lip pulled into his lower teeth and grinning, with ears big enough to catch the wind.
"Whachu," he asks and i look over him to see if his mother is far behind. The librarians chat about some workshop they are going to, oblivious to us. Otherwise, we are alone.
"Hi there," I smile.
Disengaging his hand from my shirt, leaving it twisted in a pinch, he digs into his pocket with great effort. His pudgy face crunches in concentration, showing more teeth, then releases in relief as he finds what he is looking for and places it on my table.
"There you are," nervous tension fills his mom's voice as she whirlwinds around the corner scooping him up and giving a quick pop to his bottom. "I'm sorry," she adds and they are gone, leaving me alone once more.
"No problem," I say, to no one.
Stray hairs and blue pocket lint cling to the green gummy bear that stares back at me from the desk. We share a moment and then I begin to type this to you, being spring and all.
submitted to Poetry Jam for 'connections'