Iona Adams

School: Banchory Academy, Aberdeenshire
 

Dear Library

 

Dear Library, 

Why did you die?

No warm lights

To make the children’s section glow.

No reparo! can return what we’ve lost 

Ever again. 

No tales to discover

Of a caterpillar eating through a leaf.

Excalibur has rusted in its sheath, 

No more the shine of terrible teeth.

No whispering anymore.

 

Your eyes a void-like abyss 

Staring back. 

The tempest plasters the final poster

To your shattered window.

People walk by, 

Indifferent.

A wizard, a king, an all-knowing entity,

A house, a palace, a brilliant singularity,  

A white whale, a dragon, a splendid menagerie 

A place to be. 

 

Why were you not up to speed?

Replaced by the land of 

fast fast fast

Where silent voices go

chat chat chat

All that matters is the invite to the group.

All that matters is the perfect image. 

All that matters are the hollow follows.

 

Library,

I miss you.

Sincerely,

The Last Reader. 

Copyright on all of the Pushkin Prizewinners' work remains the property of the authors. Please contact the Director of The Pushkin Prizes if you would like to make use of any individual pieces.
Designed and Managed by for The Pushkin Prizes