Checking out books again
She checks the cart for my holdsThen comments on the theme
I always think it’s funny
When the librarians can guess
What’s next at preschool
She asks how I’m doing,
Asks me by name
And I say good, even though
I’m overwhelmed by guilt
That this woman with blond curly hair
And searching blue eyes
Knows my name, my preschoolers
And I don’t know about her
I don’t even know if she usually works
In the reference section or the children’s
Or with the movie collection
I don’t even know if this is
Her normal day to work
Because I haven’t been paying attention
And yet in my hometown
I know the librarian—Helen
She has an enormous apple tree
And gives the apples out for free
She has a son who’s grown and gone
She grew up with my mom
She doesn’t work weekends, and
She usually leaves by five
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